A huge game of Victorian Steampunk using, I think, In Her Majesty's Name rules, each of us had a gang, some gangs like the Black Tongs had several players while others were on their own albeit with possible allies somewhere on the table. I was the leader of the Brick Lane Commune dedicated to overthrowing society, poor deluded fool that I am, I had an ally in the Wapping Vigilance Committee who started in the middle of the board in the Green Dragon pub, quaffing pints of lukewarm beer and eating pies waiting for a BBC team to come and expose them as Brexiteers. Our job was to help them against the dastardly Black Tong who owned a warehouse nearby while striking at any members of the Establishment on our merry way to burn said warehouse to the ground.
|The Brick Lane boys, and woman Reg.|
|The warehouse begins to smoke.|
|The Wapping boys' local.|
My gang wasn't so far from the warehouse so I duly made my way through the streets while keeping an eye out for some Johnny foreigners lurking nearby (the Sons of the Desert), I had decided to take on the nearest Tong gang and Molotov the warehouse. Suddenly some French marines started shooting at me with futuristic ray guns or some such, what with the Arabs, Chinese and now Frenchies I was beginning to think I was in the wrong part of town, coming here, setting up their evil plans, taking our jobs.
Luckily for me the Frenchies torched the warehouse on their way somewhere else, so all I needed to do now was kill some people, my compatriots from Wapping were holed up in a house fending off all comers, between them and me was a huge scrum with all sorts of wierdos fighting around the home of some satanic cult. I wasn't going that way.
The Sons of the Desert took the odd pot shot at me but in the main left me alone, I duly attacked the Tong, only to find out my people were pretty much useless at killing other people, a bit like the Peoples Front of Judea, all mouth and no trousers, on the other hand I began to lose bodies. As the game closed I had garnered a measly score of 24 having killed two guys and given another a headache, the winning score was around 300, bloody socialists.
So there you have it, a good nights entertainment made all the better for Julian's mince pies and Andy's box of Roses, and my thanks to Rob who was obviously thinking of my weight as he missed me twice with the remaining pies! Also of course a big thanks to the organiser, Dan. I almost forgot, Santa was apprehended by the Police and duly clubbed to the ground, so don't look for any presents this year.