You’ve clearly spent some time wandering the aisles of a hardware store, staring at a bag of grey plastic and thinking, “I could conquer a galaxy with these.” You’re absolutely right: to the uninitiated, they are rebar chairs or slab bolsters, but to the budget-conscious wargamer, they are the backbone of a low-cost, high-impact tabletop invasion.
About a half a dozen lengths cut to size.
If you are playing Warhammer 40,000 or Necromunda, you know that “Gothic Architecture” is just code for pointy metal things that look uncomfortable to sit on and of course archers. You’ve just gott have those! Those circular wheel spacers, used to keep rebar off the ground, look exactly like sci-fi power generators or cooling vents. If you glue three of them together, spray them silver, and hit them with a brown wash for “rust,” you suddenly have a Promethium Relay Pipe that costs five cents instead of fifty dollars.
I cut some at the “forty-five” to be able to have a right angle corner’
There is a certain wicked humour in watching your opponent’s expensive, hyper-detailed resin tank get strategically blocked by a piece of plastic designed to hold up a driveway. Paint them concrete grey, or in my case desert stucco, add a little fake moss, and you have a defensive line that looks like it has been there since the dawn of the empire—or at least since the concrete pour last Tuesday.
Here is my Post Apocalyptic buildings with the arched walls.
There was even lots left over.
I picked these up from a construction site dumpster but they are readily available.
I will paint these up to match the buildings when the last three buildings are completed.
Having recently played the rules (see yesterday’s post) I decided to have a good read of them and let you know my thoughts.
Bryan Ansell’s “Street Fight” is a fast modern wargame for close combat, focusing on street violence and gang warfare. Published by his company, Wargames Foundry, it is simple and quick to play, appealing to both beginners and seasoned players. The game uses a small number of 28mm miniatures, often from Foundry’s Street Violence range, for intense battles where tactics and luck matter. It works well for narrative campaigns, integrating character progression and experience growth into the gameplay.
The core engine of “Street Fight” is a modern take on Ansell’s influential Old West rule set, The Rules With No Name. This background focuses on simple, clean gameplay. A key feature highlighted by players is the Fate Deck (or an adapted standard deck of playing cards) used for character activation. This approach removes the typical “I go, then you go” turn order, adding chaos and unpredictability that reflects the nature of a real street brawl. Characters activate based on the drawn cards, creating tense situations where a fighter may act multiple times or be stuck while their opponent takes control.
Combat in “Street Fight” is simple and relies on a basic dice mechanic, usually using a variable number of six-sided dice (D6s), where a ‘6’ typically indicates a successful hit. The combat resolution is “clean” and very fast, keeping the game from slowing down with endless tables or complex modifiers. This efficiency keeps the focus on movement, positioning, and tactical choices instead of dice calculations. Importantly, the rules have ways for character advancement, allowing fighters to “make their bones” and gain new skills or better stats over time. This aspect makes the rules appealing for players who enjoy crafting ongoing stories for their street gangs or crime outfits.
“Street Fight’s” emphasis on fun over absolute realism or technical complexity is a real bonus. Bryan Ansell’s writing style is known to be conversational and encouraging, giving players permission to adapt and extend the rules to suit their specific tastes, a trait reminiscent of older-school wargaming philosophies. It serves as an excellent, flexible framework for a variety of small-scale modern skirmishes, from armed gang confrontations to police actions, and is often considered a perfect choice for an evening’s worth of quick, enjoyable, and tactical miniature gaming.
The “Street Fight” rules divide fighters into four classes: Citizen, Gunman, Shootist, and Legend. This ranking affects their stats and how they use the Fate Deck for extra actions. It enables experienced leaders to take charge while beginners find it hard to contribute effectively.
The beauty of Bryan Ansell’s “Street Fight” rules lies in their flexible framework, which can support a wide variety of narrative scenarios perfectly suited to small-scale skirmishes. While the core rules are simple, the mission design is key to leveraging the character progression system and the unique drama created by the Fate Deck. The rule set generally encourages quick, narrative-driven missions that reflect the chaotic reality of street-level conflict.
The have stood up to the test of time and I like them. Don’t love them but like them.
⭐⭐⭐
Rating: 3 out of 5.
Illustrations are taken from the rules, which can be found here.
It was supposed to be a celebration—a joyous evening marking the passage of another year for Rob. Instead, it was an ambush. Rob, radiating the smug aura of a seasoned wargamer whose birthday wishes are commands, unveiled his magnificent trap: Bryan Ansell’s “Street Fight.”
Rob’s collection, of course, wasn’t just some dusty box; it was a testament to dedication (or perhaps, madness). The Wargames Foundry figures, you say? Superbly painted? Oh, they would have been gorgeous, if they weren’t about to be flattened under the metaphorical boot of Jason’s tactical superiority. Each tiny, beautifully highlighted knuckle-duster and broken bottle just served as a tiny, painful reminder of the impending spanking Rob and I received.
Guru, Rob, and our poor soul of a teammate—Rob’s firstborn—were lined up like lambs for the slaughter. The game wasn’t a contest; it was a performance art piece titled The Inevitable Humiliation of the Birthday Boy and his bumbling bandits.
But ah, the true spectacle! The only satisfying part of the evening, which will no doubt go down in your personal wargaming history as a moment of pure, schadenfreude-fueled bliss: The Sibling Civil War.
Forget the main objective; forget trying to outwit the Master Tactician Jason. The real fight was happening on the flanks, where Rob’s offspring had clearly decided that the only figures worth wiping out were each other’s.
“I’m not letting your ‘Hooligan with the Lead Pipe’ take my ‘Granny with a Shiv’!”
“Too late, amateur! Your Granny just got a taste of the Street Justice my ‘Lager Lout’ delivers! That’s minus one figure and plus one sibling rivalry!”
The air must have been thick with the smell of newly dried paint and raw, primal resentment. They weren’t playing for victory; they were playing for bragging rights at the breakfast table. Rob and Guru were just background noise, the soundtrack to a far more vicious family feud unfolding in 28mm scale.
Conclusion: Rob, you may have lost the war, but let’s be real—you absolutely crushed it in the entertainment department! You swaggered off with your tactical dignity in shambles, yet your spirit was soaring like a hot air balloon after too much soda, relishing the juicy drama of a sibling-sized betrayal—complete with beer and popcorn and the best front-row seat in the house! I can’t wait to receive a report on the juicy gossip over the breakfast table the next morning!
The following sets of rules are now available on Wargames Vault
This rule set emphasizes the distinct asymmetric nature of the two armies, focusing on Roman discipline versus Gaulish individual prowess and numerical advantage.
It is designed to be a quick skirmish game with simple mechanics but also one in which tactical acumen is required. The figure scale is agnostic although I find the larger 54mm and 75mm scale figures work well and provide a larger visual spectacle.
As indicated above the game features an asymmetric conflict between the disciplined Roman forces and the fierce Gauls. Romans move on in column formation on a short table edge, and any casualties they take are permanent. The Gauls, however, stream onto the board from any long table edge and their casualties are not permanent; they can re-enter the game on the next turn, representing their vast numbers. Movement speeds reflect this difference: Gallic figures, including cavalry and chariots, move a full stick, while Roman infantry moves only a half stick.
The core of the game-play is the unpredictable Chaos of War activation system. The game utilises a deck containing one specific card for every unit on the board, plus a single Joker. Players shuffle this deck and draw cards sequentially. When a Unit Card is drawn, that unit immediately takes its single action (Move, Shoot, or Charge). The entire Activation Phase, and thus the opportunity for any remaining units to move, immediately ends if the Joker is drawn, forcing players to react constantly to the possibility of a sudden turn halt. There is no simultaneous movement phase, making the card draw the sole determinant of action.
Once the Activation Phase ends, either by the deck running out or the Joker being drawn, the turn has ended. There is no melee phase, combat occurs if at the end of a models activation they are in base to base combat with an opponent.. Combat uses a special skull/shield dice. The base number of dice rolled contrasts sharply: Gauls roll 3 dice, while Romans roll only 1 die. However, Romans gain crucial bonuses for formation, notably +1 die if their Signifier (standard bearer is present, and +1 die for every friend in base-to-base contact, rewarding tight, disciplined lines. Kills also favour the disciplined; a Gaul is removed by two uncancelled skulls, but a Roman requires three. Javelins are resolved only in melee, and the only long-range attack is the bow, which fires two dice at a range of two movement sticks.
This system creates a game where the Romans must leverage every bonus to survive the inevitable charge and hold the line, while the Gauls rely on their speed, high individual attack power, and the terrifying knowledge that their fallen warriors will soon return to the fray.
Welcome to Blade and Banner, the complete set of rules for intense, card-driven medieval skirmishes, for up to four players. This game plunges you into the gritty reality of small-scale combat, where individual skill, specialised equipment, and tactical positioning are the keys to victory.
Experience the visceral reality of medieval skirmish combat! Blade and Banner is a fast-paced, card-driven miniatures wargame that puts you in command of a small, elite retinue of knights, men-at-arms, and missile troops. Are you ready to seize the field? The core of the game lies in its Card Resolution System. Every attack and defence is a high-stakes moment, using a unique card mechanic where specialised gear grants crucial card-draw bonuses (like the Lance’s +3 Draw on a Couched Charge) or imposes crippling save penalties (such as the Armour Cracker or Devastating Blow). This system provides genuine Tactical Depth as you equip your models with specialised load outs—from Accurate Longbows for ranged support to Great Weapons for heavy melee—each defining their role on the battlefield.
This package provides a Complete Skirmish Experience. It includes full Weapon and Resolution Tables, a ready-to-play Sample Retinue, and three distinct scenarios like The Bloody Ford and The Supply Train Ambush and the Joust to test your strategic skills immediately. Master the charge, outflank your foe, and secure your banner!
Welcome, welcome, citizens of the cosmos! Tonight, we find ourselves at the precipice! The abyss! Or, as I like to call it, ‘Tuesday’! But this is no ordinary Tuesday, my friends, because outside those very soundproofed walls—which, let’s be honest, were an absolute steal on an intergalactic clearance sale—a threat looms! The question is: which brand of spectacular, imminent destruction has punched its ticket for tonight’s show?” Will tonight’s doom be delivered by the legendary, the terrifying, the unbelievably messy… Ravaging Hordes!? Ah, the Hordes. They represent the purest form of chaos: mindless hunger. They don’t have a plan, they don’t have a spreadsheet, they just have an overwhelming, primal need to consume everything. Think of it like that time you owed your cousin, Zorp, forty credits, and then you just kept forgetting until the interest compounded into a self-aware, planet-devouring singularity. That’s the Hordes! They’re less ‘evil masterminds’ and more ‘a bad debt with teeth,’ and they move with the singular, unyielding purpose of a teenager trying to get to the last slice of pizza. They are here for one reason: to eat everything, including the microphone cable! The horde may include zombies, robots, bugs and insects or ectoplasmic constructs etc.
Or, will we face the sleek, the sinister, the truly over-prepared… Extinction Syndicate!? Now these guys? These are not your average slobbering monsters. Oh no. The Extinction Syndicate is organised, sentient, and frankly, kind of rude. They colour-code their atrocities! They have quarterly performance reviews for their lieutenants! They are the universe’s equivalent of that one neighbour who calls the Council because your hedge is 0.3 millimetres too high! And get this: rumour has it they’re not just packing heat; they’re probably packing lasers. Not just regular lasers, either—I’m talking about the ones that come with a little instruction manual and a three-year warranty! They’re not just trying to conquer the galaxy; they’re trying to do it with a five-step process and a professionally-designed PowerPoint presentation. Watch out, folks, because they are here to take over, and they expect you to sign a Non Disclosure Agreement first! So, buckle up, grab your existential dread, and let’s find out which brand of glorious cataclysm is about to ruin the buffet! The music… starts… NOW! The extinction Syndicate may include robots that just want to “exterminate”, grey aliens, and other organised nasties.
All three of these rules and “Tuk Tuk Zombie Rumble” will be available in print as an anthology from Amazon in the next few weeks.
Scrapper is the first book in the Star Scrapper series by J.N. Chaney and Matthew A. Goodwin, a science fiction novel that readers who enjoy action-packed space operas will be in their element. Set against a backdrop of interstellar conflict and technological marvels, the narrative immerses readers in a richly developed universe teeming with diverse alien races and advanced spacecraft. The book has a fast-paced, exciting narrative while also laying the groundwork for a larger, more complex universe that promises further exploration in subsequent books. The strong character development, particularly the compelling arcs of the protagonists, and immersive world-building are key reasons for its success, noting how each character’s personal struggles resonate with deeper themes of survival, loyalty, and ambition. As you turn the page, you find yourself caught in thrilling battles and daring escapades but also intricate politics and ethical dilemmas that define this vast cosmos, making Scrapper a fine read.
The story is set in a future where humanity is still recovering from a devastating war against a malevolent artificial intelligence that occurred two centuries earlier. The protagonist, Hank Spears, is a resourceful “scrapper,” making a living by salvaging parts from old starships scattered across the ruins of abandoned spaceports. His mundane life, filled with the routine of scavenging treasures amidst the debris, takes an unexpected turn when he stumbles upon a long-dormant and outlawed AI hidden within the wreckage of a colossal starship. This advanced AI, with a wealth of knowledge and wisdom, warns him of a new, grave threat to the galaxy, one that could spark another cataclysmic conflict if left unchecked. As AI is strictly banned by remnants of the old government, Hank and his new companion are forced to go on the run, navigating the treacherous underbelly of a fractured society that fears what it does not understand. Their journey not only becomes a desperate race to uncover the truth, but also an odyssey of self-discovery as Hank grapples with his own past and the moral implications of his choices. Together, they must rally a diverse group of outcasts and renegades to prevent the looming threat from unleashing chaos upon the universe once again.
The plot is well-structured and full of action, with one event logically flowing into the next, creating a seamless narrative that kept me engaged. The characters are a strong point, particularly the dynamic between the protagonist, Hank Spears, and the AI, which offers a fascinating exploration of the relationship between humanity and technology. Their interactions are often filled with tension and emotional depth, revealing layers of personality and motivation that resonate deeply with the audience. The universe the authors have created is also a key feature, with the rich world-building and sense of history that pervades the story being a key featurd. From the intricate details of the setting to the complexities of the societal structures, the world feels alive and immersive. While the initial pacing was a bit slow as the world was being established, the book quickly becomes a page-turner, with tension building steadily until the final chapters.
Despite this it is hardly Tolstoy or Hemingway, but it doesn’t claim to be. I found it great escapism and an enjoyable read, although the tension between AI and human is thought provoking and perhaps not as “Sci-Fi” as we may think!
Free on kindle unlimited it is well worth a look at. I am currently reading book 2.
The air in the Town of Corrupt, a place where the sun, when it broke through the smog, seemed to cast longer, darker shadows, hung thick with the unspoken understanding of who truly ran things. It wasn’t the elected officials; it was Jason and his “All For Noughts” gang. From the “protection fees” levied on struggling small businesses to the quiet oversight of illegal gambling dens hidden behind legitimate shopfronts, the Noughts had sunk their teeth deep into the Town of Corrupt’s underbelly. Jason, with his loud laugh and an even louder sense of invincibility, genuinely believed the town was his personal fiefdom.
“This town’s all for nought if we ain’t got our say,” he’d would bellow in the dusty local bowling club, slamming a fist on the worn timber. His second-in-command, Roberto, a man whose quiet menace was far more unsettling than Jason’s bluster, would merely nod, a chilling understanding in his eyes. They were, brash, complacent, and utterly convinced of their untouchability. They were wrong!
Then, a ripple disturbed the stagnant waters of the Town of Corrupt. Whispers started circulating about “Guru’s Angels.” They weren’t a gang, nor did they operate like one. They were a Direct Action Unit, a collective of anonymous individuals who appeared to be systematically dismantling the Noughts’ operations. They left no trace, only the fallout of exposed dealings and inconvenient truths.
Their leader, known only as “Guru,” was said to be a phantom – a voice on encrypted channels, a mind that saw through the Noughts’ intricate web of corruption as if it were glass.
He had three distinct agents, the ones who executed the intricate dance of disruption: Blur, Glitch, and Astra.
Blur was the master of physical misdirection and manipulation. They could create diversions, orchestrate seemingly random events, or spread carefully crafted rumors that would send the Noughts’ enforcers chasing ghosts. Blur excelled at making things not be where they seemed, creating a general state of confusion and doubt among the Noughts’ ranks.
Glitch was the digital phantom, the cyber-saboteur. They could infiltrate any network, scramble communications, delete incriminating files, or, conversely, bring them to light at the most inconvenient times. Glitch turned the Noughts’ digital infrastructure into their greatest weakness.
Astra was the marksman, a shooter and sniper of unparalleled skill. She didn’t deal in digital code or misdirection; her precision was physical, capable of disabling critical equipment, delivering non-lethal but impactful deterrents, or hitting targets with pinpoint accuracy from a distance, all without ever being seen.
The first direct strike against the Noughts was a digital nightmare. A major shipment of untaxed liquor, bound for the Noughts’ network of illicit bars, simply vanished from the shipping manifest. The tracking data looped endlessly to a non-existent address. The drivers, thoroughly confused, found only an empty warehouse. Jason’s phone buzzed with a single, cryptic text: “All For Nought.” This was Glitch’s handiwork, a taste of digital disarray.
Next, a critical piece of equipment at the Noughts’ main illegal gambling den mysteriously stopped working. The high-stakes poker table’s automated card shuffler broke down mid-game. The security cameras watching the back alley went dark, one by one, with no explanation. It wasn’t an electrical fault; it was a series of incredibly precise, targeted shots from a distance, disabling the mechanisms without leaving a trace. This was Astra’s signature – surgical disruption delivered with pinpoint accuracy. She didn’t harm anyone, but her message was clear: their operations were vulnerable.
Jason was livid. “Find these ‘Angels’!” he roared, ordering his men to lean harder on anyone who might have information. But every time the Noughts thought they had a lead – a suspected hideout, a potential informant – Blur would weave a web of misinformation. They’d orchestrate a timely “protest” in a different part of town, or spread a convincing rumor about a rival gang’s movements, sending the Noughts’ enforcers chasing phantoms down blind alleys. While the Noughts were diverted, Glitch would subtly redirect their surveillance feeds or scramble their internal communications, leaving them fighting an enemy they couldn’t locate.
The Noughts, for all their brute force, were fighting an enemy they couldn’t see, and couldn’t hit. Their grip on the Town of Corrupt, once iron-clad, began to slip. Small businesses, quietly emboldened by the Angels’ disruptive presence, started subtly resisting the “protection” rackets. The flow of illicit goods became erratic, unreliable.
THE FINAL SHOWDOWN
The final, devastating blow came during the Town of Corrupt’s annual “charity festival” – a perfect cover for a major money laundering operation the Noughts were running through a supposedly legitimate charity stall. Jason, Roberto, and their core crew were on-site, overseeing the illicit flow of cash.
Suddenly, the festival’s PA system, meant for local announcements, crackled to life. It wasn’t the mayor speaking. A distorted, digital voice boomed across the main square, playing snippets of recorded conversations – Jason’s voice, Roberto’s, discussing their illegal schemes, detailing specific transactions, even naming complicit officials. Then, the voice declared, “The truth, Town of Corrupt, is no longer for nought.” This was Glitch, broadcasting their dirty laundry for the entire town to hear, shattering their façade of respectability.
The Noughts sprang into action with a shooter moving forward to distract Blur, a barrage of suppression fire, although not causing any damage due to her expert dodging did cause her to try and avoid the fire.
Astra made her move. From a hidden location, her gun ready, she took aim. Her “shots” were perfectly aimed at the shooters most vulnerable points, and suddenly one of Jason’s crew was nought!
Simultaneously, Blur orchestrated a controlled an attack on the Nought hacker who was trying to infiltrate a weapons platform not used since the the early days of the Corrupt Wars. Wounded but not out, the hacker was in deep trouble.
Bad, but things were about to get worse. With all of the “Angels” surrounding the hacker the result was inevitable.
In a last desperate attempt to restore some dignity the last remaining “Nought” try to hack the Angels computer node. A series of Aim, Aargh, Wound results from Astra’s sniper rifle brought down the offender.
As Jason was cuffed, his bluster completely deflated, he looked around wildly. But there was no one to see. Without even a single scratch, Guru’s Angels had melted back into the shadows, leaving behind only the undeniable evidence of their operation. The Town of Corrupt, for the first time in a long time, felt a flicker of hope. The grip of corruption had been loosened, not by brute force, but by the precise, surgical strikes of those who fought for truth, justice, and Guru’s way, in the digital and physical shadows.
Another great game of Mission Critical with Jason.
What’s next in the thrilling saga of Guru’s Angels? To find out stay tuned – same Guru Pig time, same Guru Pig station!
A Goblin Tank is a chaotic masterpiece of crude engineering, far removed from the precision of human or elven war machines. These ramshackle vehicles are typically cobbled together from scavenged metal plates, mismatched wheels or tracks, and whatever other junk goblins can lay their grimy hands on.
Expect asymmetrical designs, belching smoke from unstable power sources, and a general air of impending structural failure. Adorned with jagged spikes, crude blades, and frantic goblin graffiti, they embody the destructive ingenuity of their creators.
Crammed within these precarious contraptions is an overeager, underqualified crew of goblins. Coordination is a foreign concept; instead, a cacophony of shrieks and frantic gestures guides the tank’s erratic movement. Drivers wrestle with controls while gunners haphazardly aim their volatile weaponry. These expendable crews often throw themselves and their tank into the most dangerous situations, viewing the vehicle as a temporary, explosive home before its inevitable destruction.
The weaponry mounted on a Goblin Tank is as improvised as its construction. Forget accuracy; these are tools of mayhem. You might find oversized ballistas launching flaming projectiles, dangerously unstable flamethrowers, or multiple haphazardly placed guns firing a mix of scrap and actual ammunition.
Close-quarters combat is assured with crudely fashioned ramming spikes and “choppas.” These weapons are notoriously unreliable, prone to jamming, overheating, or simply falling off during the chaotic advance.
On the battlefield, a Goblin Tank serves as a mobile source of shock and awe – or just plain shock. It barrels forward, spewing smoke and fire, aiming to break enemy lines through sheer, unpredictable chaos.
Even if it doesn’t achieve a decisive breakthrough, its very presence is a potent distraction, drawing enemy fire and attention away from other goblin forces. Ultimately, a Goblin Tank often meets a spectacular end, whether through enemy action, internal malfunction, or the sheer, explosive exuberance of its goblin crew.
I picked the tank up at a bring and buy, not sure why, but it does look kinda cool. It is from a 3D print that I found here.
The battle was over in minutes, the desert air still thick with the tang of ozone and spent ammunition. As Soldat 1 stood silent amidst the fallen patrol, a deep, unsettling tremor began in the sand. Cracks spiderwebbed across the dunes, orange light filtering from unseen depths. Gradually, monstrous segments of corroded metal and twisted cables breached the surface.
The desert night hung heavy, thick with the metallic tang of ozone and the faint, sweet scent of blood. Soldat 1 stood motionless, a sentinel of silent destruction, its optical sensors reflecting the dying embers of a hastily extinguished British patrol. But the silence was a lie, a momentary breath before the storm. A deep, guttural groan, not of engine or metal, but of something ancient and malevolent, vibrated through the cracked earth.
Beneath the swirling sand, a titanic form stirred. Soldat 2, a grotesque mockery of engineering, groaned with the protest of corroded joints and reanimated hydraulics.
With a low, grinding roar, Soldat 2 uncoiled, a leviathan of steel and necromantic power, rising from the earth like a colossal, ancient sand worm, its multi-faceted optics glowing with malevolent purpose. The true horror of the Africa Corpse was only just beginning to stir.
It was buried deep, its lower half lost to the thirsty dunes, its massive body tilted at a perilous 45-degree angle. Yet, with horrifying resolve, its immense, blocky arms, already scarred by the elements and unnaturally decayed, began to claw. Sand erupted in cascading waves, illuminated by the sickly orange glow of the setting sun, as the mech heaved, a monstrous beast trying to free itself from its sandy tomb. Exposed wires sparked, internal lights flickered with a ghastly green, betraying the unnatural life within.
Then, with a hiss of releasing pressure, a hatch on Soldat 2’s upper torso slowly cranked open. From the dark maw, silhouetted against the internal glow, emerged Kommandant Eisenfaust. He was not a man, not anymore. His gaunt face was a roadmap of ancient battles and unholy pacts, his uniform tattered but still bearing the grim insignia of the Africa Corpse.
His eyes, burning with an internal, infernal light, scanned the desolate horizon. He was an undead hero, resurrected for a war far stranger than any he had fought in life, stepping forth from his reanimated war machine.
The Dessicated Fox’s will had stirred them both from their slumber, and the desert would once again run red with the blood of those who dared to oppose the rising tide of the weird war.
With a surge of dark power, Soldat 2’s TAR-29d Gulo Assault Rifle, a relic of forgotten skirmishes now humming with malevolent energy, was raised in the air.
Round after round ripped into the twilight, not aimed at an enemy, but as a deafening, echoing declaration of his return. At his other arm, the ancient Ohkara Shield flared with a searing, otherworldly light, emitting a loud, defiant salute that cut through the desert’s oppressive silence.
The sound was a challenge, a promise of retribution.
As the last rounds echoed into the vastness, Kommandant Eisenfaust’s glowing gaze locked onto Soldat 1. A flicker of recognition, a silent bond forged in shared damnation, passed between the two reanimated entities. Once again, the two brothers-in-arms, bound by the Dessicated Fox’s unholy will, were reunited, ready to unleash the true horror of the Africa Corpse upon a world unprepared for their weird war. The desert would once again run red with the blood of those who dared to oppose the rising tide of their terror.
Thanks again to Rob for a second 3D print, this time with a big shooty thing. Hopefully a few more to come, Rob?
“Once upon a time, there were three little girls from the toxic wasteland of Corrupt; and they were each living in very hazardous circumstances. But I took them away from all that and now they work for me. My name is Guru, Guru Pig!”
Just for kicks, the girls hatch a hilariously outrageous plan to sneak into the enemy’s command HQ in an oh-so-fortified district of Corrupt, all while casually tossing in the idea of “eliminating key personnel” as just a cheeky little bonus for their shenanigans!
The “party” consists of:
Blur – Her mastery of razor melee combat isn’t just a result of training; it’s more like a hilarious survival game gone wrong! Forget advanced tech; we’re talking about perfectly weighted, super sharp blades—maybe even scavenged from a particularly clumsy metal vendor or crafted from the leftovers of the last made-at-home shield-making contest. Who knew that being a combat expert could feel like a DIY project in the depths of Corrupt?
Astra is a sniper extraordinaire, a ranged combat whiz whose accuracy is so on point it could probably win a game of darts from ten blocks away. Her aim isn’t just impressive; it’s practically magical, polished not on boring shooting ranges but in the wild adventure of slum streets, where even pigeons are on edge. Every shot she fires is like a laser-guided love letter, bursting through gloom and grime with the finesse of a catwalk model dodging puddles!
Glitch is the team’s digital poltergeist! Glitch can sneak into any network like a cat burglar in a Wi-Fi shop, mess with communications like a kid playing with a walkie-talkie, manipulate surveillance systems as if they were mere toys, and extract data faster than you can say “buffering.”
Welcome to the “party” zone, where the only thing more vibrant than the decorations is Jason’s questionable dance moves!
Glitch kicks off the mission by breaking into the enemy’s high-tech communications clubhouse—because, why not? Their fingers twirl around the holographic interface like they’re auditioning for a sci-fi talent show, lines of code melting away like butter on a hot pancake. They unleash a fancy worm that’s sneakier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs, quietly sipping on data while commandeering the network like it’s their new favorite toy. Suddenly, the enemy comms start doing the electric slide, then poof! They’re as silent as a library at naptime, replaced by a looping, oh-so-boring signal that’s so bland it’s practically begging for the lights to go back on.
As Glitch’s digital tendrils weave through the enemy’s compromised communication node, Astra moves with practiced swiftness. A sharp thwip cuts the air as she lobs a tactical smoke grenade. The canister impacts a nearby wall, instantly erupting in a dense, swirling cloud of white. The thick vapor rapidly expands, masking their position and disorienting any approaching guards, buying Glitch precious seconds to solidify their digital hold and complete the crucial hack.
A formidable enemy close-combat expert, honed by countless engagements, lunges from the swirling smoke. Their movements are a blur of trained aggression, aiming for a swift takedown. But Blur is swifter. A phantom flicker is all that’s seen as Blur anticipates the attack, weaving inside the enemy’s guard. A precise strike, a barely audible thud, and the expert crumples, dispatched before they even register the counter. No screams, no struggle – just silence and an empty space where a threat once stood.
Having taken over the communications node, Glitch, now comfortably lounging in the enemy’s systems like a cat in a sunbeam, decides it’s time for a little fun with a high-frequency sonic pulse. Instead of a dramatic explosion, imagine a slightly annoying, deep vibration that sneaks past all their fancy defenses like a ninja in the night. The sudden pressure wave crashes into every poor enemy inside the compound, leaving them clutching their heads as if they just heard their least favorite song on repeat. Soldiers wobble like jellybeans, their knees giving way and sending everyone crashing to the ground in a clumsy heap, making them look less like warriors and more like a pile of confused puppies – utterly vulnerable and temporarily out of commission!
With the enemy temporarily incapacitated by the ridiculous sonic blast, Glitch zooms in like a caffeine-fueled Quoka towards a downed operative. Forgetting all about her hesitation—what’s that, a luxury?—she unleashes a flurry of energy bursts from her assault rifle, like a kid at a candy store. The impacts are comedy gold, knocking the poor target to the ground and leaving them wondering if they’ve just been hit by a rogue fireworks display.
The successful shot made Glitch realize that the enemy is not just your average shooter—this guy’s got the aim of a laser-guided squirrel! Pity they won’t get a chance to use it!
Standing up to the sonic blast and the unpredictable antics of Glitch, the enemy shooter now finds himself in a pickle, squaring off against both Glitch and Astra—talk about being outnumbered! It’s like bringing a rubber spoon to a knife fight.
A comically loud alarm blares, announcing that a tiny, mischievous explosive charge has decided it’s time for its big debut somewhere in the HQ. An enemy operative, grinning like they’ve just won a prize for worst villain of the year, is fumbling around to secure the area, their hand awkwardly patting the remote detonator like it’s a pet cat. But wait, here comes Blur! Practically a gust of wind in spandex, Blur zips in and out like a bad magic trick, arriving right behind the enemy. Before the villain can go, “Wait, what?” and before the timer can even go “tick,” Blur delivers a swift, superhero-grade smackdown. The operative drops like a sack of potatoes, and just like that, the explosion is thwarted by the skin of a mouse’s whiskers!
With the sonic blast’s effects fading like a bad haircut, and the enemy’s demolition expert taking an unplanned nap, only one enemy operative is standing, looking like they’ve just lost a fight with a blender. Enter Blur, who zips over to secure the communications mask, because let’s face it, the last thing anyone needs is a surprise party invitation going out at this hour!
Meanwhile, Astra zips around like a caffeinated squirrel on a mission. She spots an enemy-controlled automated weapons turret, awkwardly stationed like a bouncer at a club that no one’s trying to enter. With a few spectacular moves that would make a magician proud, her engineering tools blink like they’re in a disco, and the turret’s internal gears start humming as she wrestles it into submission, overriding its grumpy targeting protocols. Now, instead of being a menacing menace, it turns into her overly enthusiastic sidekick, scanning for trouble with its shiny optics, ready to unleash a hail of cover fire at Astra’s command—because who doesn’t want a turret with a flair for the dramatic?
Finally, Glitch, the master of mischief, tiptoes toward the enemy’s main C2 HQ like a cat burglar on a midnight snack run, ready to plant a demolition charge that’s just as likely to turn the building into confetti as it is to bring it crashing down—talk about a party favor!
An absolutely hilarious spectacle featuring Jason and a gloriously chaotic debut for “Gurus Angels”!
