Well, In reference to yesterday, In the (Sadly) Longer-lived than he was words of Halfdane (Pronounced Hilt-Ae) (Somehow) (Not that being longer-lived than Halfdane was difficult, he died within minutes of uttering the line) Anyway, back to the original track... Today Was A Good Day *Slam Sword Fist Against Chest* A Good Day *Drag Self Up Wall And Ready To Meet The Wendol*
Now to explain this fine day. We shall begin, as all good storytellers do (Ignore this advice, its probably lies) At the End.
We ended, and by we I mean me, With a Metal gig at a local pub called the Pogue Mahone (Eirin's Isle Gael, Pogue Ma Hoin, Kiss My Arse) which bills itself as an Irish Alehouse, even though apparently they stock no ales. Sad Jared. On the other hand they let me have Wodin's Wroth. Happy Jared.
Anyway, I had to rely on my parents for transport... which resulted in me seeing but two bands. The first was from Vernon. A black metal band called Zool or Zule or Zuul or Zhuul... However it be spelled, it was pronounced like the name of the Minion of Gozer from Ghostbusters (Who you gonna call?). They were pretty good. Not very distinctive, but pretty good. The second band was more of the same, and there name (As close as I can figure) was *Indecipherable Growl* *Indecipherable Growl*. Don't ask me how its spelled. Twas the lead singers birthday I was told... they had a decent set as well...
I wound up right up by the stage, which had the end result of me being right on the edge of the Mosh Pit. Which had the end result of me constantly getting jarred back onto the chappy behind me's toes. and bracing myself off the speaker... which may help to explain why it took about an hour after the gig for my ears to stop ringing... All told a good night and an epic end to the day, which had its high point earlier, when I had a warhammer 40K battle.
An Expeditionary Force of Space Wolves encountered a similar force of Dark Angels. 5 Grey hunters were stood amidst a set of large boulders, and another 5 were in an old walled watchpoint. A Wolf Guard Battle Leader was standing next to the boulders with his two Canid companions when the first of the Dark Angels appeared. Chapter Master Belial, accompanied by two squads of Terminators. The Space Wolves reacted first, with the Wolflord on his mighty Thunderwolf, accompanied by his two lesser Wolves charged onto the field, side by side with the Land raider that bore his Wolf Guard. At the same time, his Long Fangs moved up the side of the watchpost to take up firing positions.
In response the Dark Angels brought up a land speeder to attack the Long Fangs, and accompanied it with an Attack Bike, with Multi-Melta. A Land Raider Crusader and Hellfire Dreadnought came straight down the middle of the field, and a squad of Bikers came at the grey hunters in the boulderfield
The battle was a mutual slaughter. The high points were the Long Fangs obliterating the Land Speeder with Plasma Cannon, although bar shooting the assault cannons off the crusader, immobilising the dreadnought, and wrecking its lascannons, they accomplished little. on the other hand, of the five of them they lost two men. Two Dark Angels Terminators fell to Power Armoured Were-Wolves, and Another was torn apart by such a beast in Terminator Armour. I like this Idea, I like it a lot.
All of the Grey Hunters were wiped out, as were All the Wolf Guard, and All the Fenrisian Wolves. In the end Of the score of Space Wolves to take the field, 6 walked off. Which was better than the Dark Angels. They had 24 men, 2 of whom left the field under their own power. and those had been the Land Raider Crew. All Told, The Sons Of Russ taught the Dark Angels that one doesn't cross the Space Wolves. A suitable response to Lion El'Johnson's Treacherous attack on Leman Russ...
So drink, metal, and the slaughtering of copious people... Gave in to that raw bearsarkr at last, then? I approve! Thought you had money issues with the pub?
ReplyDeleteAlso may need to take my parents up on that offer that I go out for a drink with some older friends of ours on the grounds that said older friends will have nothing against me doing my best to teach a Wodin's Wroth to a barman and disappearing off into a corner with it, the music, and a pen and paper.
Well, Drink, Metal, The Slaughtering of copious plastic superhumans... As for the money issues... They weren't quite as bad as I thought... That is to say, they weren't bad enough to override the 'I don't care, I need to DO SOMETHING!' imperative
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