(I want to make it clear that “Childe” in the title is used
in the medieval sense of a young man of noble birth who has not yet become a
knight, and nothing to do with the mental age of someone who spends most of his
days painting little toys and thinking up puns.)
We sail towards the Dark Tower of Roundwood, which looms
through the clouds beckoning, spiky and ominous. The final stage of our
journey, the last stepping stone at the foot of the Snowlord’s Peak, the one
remaining deathly challenge between us and infinite treasures, it leers against
the sky like Sauron’s bad tooth. I gaze at the oncoming monolith with a sense
of awe. For my companions it's more like a sense of “or”:
“We could land there, I suppose. Or we could simply give up and go
home.”
“Or we could start all over again. It’s been such fun.”
“Or we could abandon all hope of treasure and join a nunnery.”
“Don’t you mean ‘monastery?”
“Which do you think would be most fun?”
I must admit, watching the sky fill with the tower's looming ominosity,
part of me has some sympathy for the trembling knees and knotting intestines of
my loyal companions. But I’m made of sterner stuff, for in the Land of Make-Believe
the man with an imaginary friend is king.
As a flock of rooks – I’m pretty sure that’s what they are –
scatter before the balloon, I make one of the rousing speeches I’m so famous
for:
“Don’t look now, but those birds are an omen which tells me
this balloon will carrie us out of misery. It may be near dark, but this is the
end of our journey: the ring of that tower is our final destination. We may not
have arrived here as soon as we hoped, but now, 28 days later, this descent will bring
us all we deserve. This is it!”(*)
For some reason, my companions find something disturbing in
my words. But it’s too late to turn back now. As the dark of creeping night
seeps across the tower, the balloon sets us down, and with shadowy rooks
circling us and stone trembling beneath our feet we clamber hesitantly onto the
roof, waving our goodbyes to the good Lady Sarah (who seems quite keen to be on
her way, for some reason. Perhaps she’s run out of champagne).
On the distant horizon, outlined in the blood-red sunset, at last is our long-sought goal, the Peak of the Snow-Lord.
Dum Dum Dah!!!
(*Just in case when reading this para you were wondering whether they've recently upped my medication - there are thirteen horror film titles here. Can you spot them all?)
---
A favourite project which I keep coming back to is
Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt in 1798. In 1799, following the loss of his
supporting fleet at the Battle of the Nile and his failure to extend the
invasion into Syria, Napoleon abandoned his army to return to France. My imaginary
variation on history has Napoleon succeeding in Syria and, following in
Alexander the Great’s footsteps, as Napoleon fantasised, eventually reaching
India. This allows his armies to fight various nations and tribes along the
way: Turks, Persians, Arabs, Afghans and so on, eventually to meet Wellington
somewhere in the Punjab.
So here are a few of the figures I’m adding to this campaign.
There will be more.
2 French Generals, Rampon and Damas
a spattering of sepoys, from the Bombay contingent that came
to Egypt as part of the British 1801 effort to oust the French
An Ottoman character group, Apparently Janissary regiments
treated their soup tureen and spoon with reverence similar to that European regiments
reserved for their colours.
Points: 2 cavalry: 20pts, 11 foot: 55, Roundwood's Tower: 30
points: Total : 105
***
What a great collection of figures here Noel! All of the figures look top notch, but the Janissary soup pot has such great character that it has to be an instant favourite! I don't know about everyone else, but for me one of the biggest joys of the challenge each year is seeing such different, cool, and odd ball miniatures such as this one.
- ByronM
