Travelogue Series Look forward to the GrubLord series of Japan, Canada and USA travelogues: coming out one per day, only on NWTJ!
Canada Powers, Activate!
Alright, everybody! Let's get this show on the road. I've been working on
a fine little wrap-up of my latest overseas holiday for you guys, and who knows?
Maybe you'll learn something. If not, you'll at least get a heaping helping
of my personal brand of entertaining experiences, which many of you seemed
to get some enjoyment out of last time, if I am not mistaken.
Note also, by the way, that my Japan Finale has been updated with the final Day 17.
Like all of my recent trips, this one starts with me largely ignoring my travel
plans and getting Ashnil to do that part for me, and thanks to his obsessive
nature and a particularly helpful member of the uni administrative staff, we
can skip right over any preliminaries with the simple assertion that I knew
this trip was coming for a long time, but nevertheless never really had a chance
to mentally prepare for it in any particular way. In fact, you could say I
was kept so busy until the very moment I left, that even when I got on the
plane, I barely
realised what was going on.
Nevertheless, I managed to have a heck of a time anyways, and everything worked
out perfectly well. There's a lesson there for you organised types: sometimes
it's more fun just to wing it.
Day 1 - In which Liv grows steadily more delirious
Speaking of winging it, did I mention I wasn't particularly prepared for
my trip when I left? All I remember about that evening is saying goodbye
to my parents, then getting Ashnil and his manila folder full of printed
documents to wave me past every checkpoint. I hadn't even really slept
that night, having had a lot of last minute stuff to finish. It was kinda
surreal. Did he have my files in that folder, as well? I don't know. Maybe
just the sight of that folder made people trust him.
I can, however, offer a brief review of in-flight entertainment. Before
I do, however, I should note that I was hardly approaching the situation
objectively. This is to say, I was in "quite a tizzy", as your
grandmother might put it. You see, there was a backlog of work choking
my personal organisation system (zomg what? I have one?) so deep that I
could hardly see the bottom of it - and most of it had deadlines within
the conference period. Being rather a sharp fellow, I
soon realised that a stupidly long plane flight would be the perfect time
to do all of that, especially since I really can't sleep in an aeroplane
seat.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, I spent easily two thirds of the flight
time just working flat out. We're not talking the show-up-to-uni hey-it's-lunch-time
sort of working, we're talking the not-coming-out-of-my-room-until-this-shit-is-done
type of working. As such, simply giving myself a break to watch a movie
or something - particularly given the frustrating nature of some of that
work, and my own increasing sleep deprivation - made me so giddy, I probably
could've watched something from Ashnil's playlist ("Inkheart", "Race
to Witch Mountain", "Street Fighter"...) and still somehow
thought it was good.
So, then, here's what I did end up watching:
Canadian Independent Short Films - Obviously, I didn't
have a great deal of time on my hands, so it was great to have a whole
lot of bite-size movie magic available in the 5-16 minute range. I almost
didn't even notice this option at first, so amazed was I that in Canadian
terms, the "Movies" category includes a sub-category
of "Hollywood". Amidst all the world cinema, avant garde, french,
classic B&W, etc. selections, I almost missed the short-film option.
It all reinforced what would prove to be a rather accurate impression:
Canada is a lot like the US, but with that little bit of extra cultural
sophistication on top, which makes all the difference.
The short films I watched were "Big Girl", "Skinheads", "The
Magic Projector", "Virtual Virtuoso" and "Yellow Sticky
Notes". All of these were very clever little films, and all of them - the
sticky-notes one especially - were unique and entertaining expressions
of clever ideas, which I really enjoyed watching. It's hard to discuss
any movie this short without spoiling the plot and thus earning RJorb's
ire once more, so suffice it to say that next time Lily invites me to a
short film festival, I'll go.
Ip Man - No, this isn't a drama about delivering data
packets, but rather the story of Grandmaster Ip Man, the first martial
arts master to teach the Chinese martial art of Wing Chun. This film is
entirely in Chinese, and I really don't even know if you could find it
in Australia; but if you can, you should go watch it!
I cannot recommend it enough: the martial arts scenes are just outstanding,
and the plot and pacing of the movie were spot on. It was definitely the
best thing I saw all trip. All that Wing Chun action made me
want to go ninja some stuff again. I wonder whether I could find a way
to integrate some of these moves...
Quiéreme - Having been on a roll with these World films,
I tried this ... Belgian? Swiss? Spanish? I dunno, European... film next.
Essentially, it's the story of a chef named Pancho whose young-at-heart
lifestyle
falls apart when he discovers in short order that he is a grandfather,
and that his daughter has gone missing. He has to decide what's important
to him, juggle a lot of difficult choices, and somehow piece together the
life and motives of his vanished daughter while in turn taking care of her daughter.
More than anything, this film reminded me that real people are often more
interesting, and their stories more powerful, than Hollywood bullshit.
I'm a big fan of Hollywood bullshit, overall, but a simple, slow-paced,
powerful story like this occasionally makes me wonder why.
The Pink Panther 2 - Speaking of bullshit, this was bullshit. Go
hire the Peter Sellers films instead.
(There ought to be a music player in this space right here, but it looks
like either you've turned off JavaScript or don't have Flash
Player 9 or better installed. Your loss, buddy. You can either read on,
or go get Flash and come back.)
That's all I watched? Well, as I said, there was a lot of work to do.
If you're looking for a recommendation, go see The Sarah Connor Chronicles.
Anyways, its' time to get into the meat of things. Canada!
In order to really set the tone nicely, I recommend starting up the music
player I've put together for you guys above. I must've listened to this
album four or five times straight on the plane while I was doing my work,
and I liked it enough to go buy it after. I think it makes an excellent
accompaniment
to the post.
After some Airport action, promising to meet up later with the various
co-workers who accompanied us (whom I never saw again...), and standing
in a long queue, Ash and I got in a big ol' taxi, and headed on down into
Toronto.
The cab driver proved quite chatty, telling us about the CN Tower which
stands at the heart of the city (which, after Centerpoint, Tokyo Tower,
etc., we were starting to see as a pretty standard big-city feature), and
about other fine landmarks such as the Skydome (purchased by the Rogers
phone company and renamed to the "Rogers Center" ). Most of
what I got out of his chatter was that there really wasn't much to see
in Toronto, which was fine by me because I could barely see anyway after
an 18 hour flight on 4 hours' sleep.
What I did see, however, reminded me a lot of Melbourne. That is to say,
it was a rather modern city (although for whatever reason, it struck me
as somewhat... dirtier... than Melbourne), full of trams, full of dudes
who think they're pretty fashionable, full of gentrification, corporate
glamour and multicultural dining opportunities. That sort of thing. Melbourne
on the Great
Lakes.
In
fact, speaking strictly in terms of décor, the only significant
difference I saw to our dear Melbourne was the fact that these people seemed
to love the colour bright yellow. Say what you will about Australians,
but we'll think twice before painting anything a glaring Pacman-yellow.
Not so Canadians: street lamps, fire hydrants, stop lights at intersections,
billboards, road markings, street signs, and a million billion bigass school
buses, all a garish shade of yellow, all over the place. Perhaps, like
bright yellow safety scissors, these simply represent a society that
doesn't quite trust itself with the adult versions of, say, stop lights
yet.
Regardless, the school buses are a culture unto themselves around here.
They are literally everywhere. It seems as though they simply have so many
bright yellow school buses, they simply don't have enough space to park
them all. It would not be exaggerating to say that any Canadian road beyond
a certain length is guaranteed to have a yellow school bus parked somewhere
along it, often looking as though it hasn't actually moved in at least
a solid century or two. Some of these buses seem to have been press-ganged
into other work, presumably 'cause there could not possibly be enough schoolkids
in the country to fill them. Not only are there a ton of different companies
that seem to respray and convert these school buses for a variety of purposed,
but I even saw one building which, aside from being surrounded by parked
school buses, even used one for decoration by making a
bad school-pun in the store's name and sticking the entire bloody bus up
on the roof.
We soon arrived at our hotel, which is to say at the dingy-ass hotel Ashnil
picked out for us. Given the luxury our co-workers were staying in, this
place didn't exactly thrill anybody: the problem with getting Ash to book
anything - even at someone else's expense - is that his low sense
of self-worth tends to make him pick the crappiest stuff he can find. Just
so our hotel: where the others had marble benchtops, we didn't even have
a minibar. Where they had bus-boys and fluffy robes, we had school buses
parked out front and couldn't work out how to start the shower.
Regardless, we weren't about to go to sleep anyway. The moment we got
there, we met up with our good buddy Ben (a freakishly tall German of ill
repute), and decided to have a night (well, day) on the town. Sure, I
still hadn't had any sleep, and it had been some 20 hours by this point,
but we were in Toronto, dammit: it was time to explore!
The
first order of the day was to find a nice place to eat at, since aeroplane
food is pretty universally known to be no better than chewing on the insides
of your cheeks. In this respect, we found Toronto to be quite accomodating:
just by picking a random street and going, we were spoilt for choice in
nice places to eat.
Downtown Toronto was even more modern and shiny than anything I remembered
from Melbourne, resembling parts of Tokyo in its department-store feel,
high-rise buildings and annoying flashing billboards. In particular, the
area around our hotel had the dubious distinction of being the single place
in Toronto most tightly packed with glaring, luminous video billboards (one
of which billed itself as the largest outdoor colour display in the country).
As such, it was pretty tough to get lost, since from any sufficiently tall
vantage point the harsh glare of neon would shine our way home.
Eventually, the lot of us miscreants stopped in at a very British little
joint called the Duke of Somethington (well... it wasn't actually called
"Somethington", but does it really matter the exact name?) and
had us some fine colonial british cuisine. In retrospect, it's odd that
- spoilt for choice as we were - we picked out the food of a country well-known
for bad cooking, but our judgement was pretty well impaired at this point
as the sleep deprivation mounted. I don't really remember what we ate,
save that ketchup and cracked pepper were in abundant supply and ended
up slathered all over everything (RJorb would love it here). In fact, most
of what I remember about this dinner was
that every one of us was talking, but
I'll be damned
if we were actually talking with each other. It was a lot like each of
us was stringing together our own stream of consciousness with everyone
else's in bizarre and loosely-coupled ways, leaving us laughing for no
apparent reason and wondering what exactly any of us were talking about.
I'm surprised that they even served us alcohol in this state, since the
waiter seemed quite bemused by our antics, but I suppose that's just how
things go at the Duke... around noon... At any rate, given that I had to
win the respect of our German cousins, and wasn't really thinking straight
to begin with, I decided to take up Ben's offer of sharing a pitcher of
their "finest local ale". This ended us up with a sour and watery
local brew known as "Steam Whistle", which aside from having the dubious
honour of being the first pitcher of beer I'd ever bought for my own consumption,
did indeed taste of having been used to grease locomotives, and perhaps
being
collected from the whistle runoff.
Luckily, Ben seemed to like it, and after dutifully consuming about a
third of the pitcher myself, I left him to it. All the while, of course,
Ashnil was looking at both of us in his doe-eyed way, that twinkle in his
eye as he sipped at his cola mute testament to the fact that he knew very
well this vile swill was turning my stomach, and was enjoying every minute
of
it.
Not too long afterward, red-eyed, beered-up and still gibbering incomprehensibly,
we emerged from the Duke to once again stalk the local streets, eagerly
taking
photographs of oddly-shaped roofs (which, upon reviewing the pictures...
weren't
actually unusual in any way, save for being somewhat dirty or having steam
vents on them). It was at
this point that we came upon a street festival in full swing.
My first thought, of course, was: "Does everybody have these bloody
events except us?"
I'll be damned if I've ever just wandered outdoors in Australia, and ended
up in the middle of a huge local celebration of some kind (or even just
a small group of people dancing and playing accordeons). Whenever I am
overseas, though, this kind of thing seems to happen all of the time. It
doesn't matter where I'm at, or even what I'm doing: people around me seem
to find excuses to have a good time, and do it in large groups. Back in
Australia, as Ran knows very well, you can personally host and cater an
excellent party in an attractive venue, doing all the work yourself, and
you'd still have trouble getting more than five or six people to show up.
Bloody Australians.
C'est la vie. Canada, at least, knows how to have a good time: as it
happened, it turned out that there would be big ol' concerts and free performances
(including several by Cirque de Soleil) happening during every day of our
conference - and that we'd just barely missed a free circus performance
an hour ago by walking away at the wrong time to go see the Duke.
Chagrined, tired and delirious, we left the street festival alone for
the time being and decided to stake our claim
on some seats the next day, to see some of those creepy clowns for ourselves.
What the... Liv's traipsing Canada and America, and he decides to put up the last two days of his Japan series? What the buggery?
Well, as it happens, I've been wanting to finish this for a long time - since
I got back, even. What with the chaos that is my usual life, however,
I was always busy with something else. For me, these action-packed overseas
trips, oddly, are some of the most relaxing periods of time that I get - and
they afford me the rare opportunity to sit down and actually do some of the
things I enjoy and want to do, but don't have scheduled in advance. Aside from
that, with Ash out having new adventures in Japan (well, probably not, but
potentially...), a fellow could get jealous if he didn't redirect his own
reminiscing into another entertaining NWTJ post. Besides, I can hardly expect
people to stay tuned to my Canadian postings if I earn a reputation for not
finishing the job, so I figured the best way to show my commitment to giving
you all a thorough accounting of my travels... was to finish the Japan posts
first.
Besides, this Japan holiday was really something else. Particularly now that
I've seen another two countries (besides my own) within the space of a few
short months, it makes me appreciate all the more how incredibly concentrated
the Japan experience was. Every day was like a new and different holiday,
with a variety of novel sights and sounds all its own. I confess, also, that
there a few nuggets I have been saving for this final wrapup post: impressions
and stories I never did share, even when discussing my time in Japan, and some
stuff even Ashnil hasn't heard. So hold on tight, and listen close, as I take
you back on a journey to the recent past...
Day 16 - In which Liv goes up the wrong elevator
We awoke this morning to the hauntingly beautiful opera refrains of Will
Smith's "Boom, Shake the Room". I think repeating it several
times, my head echoing the words as I heard them slowly start to penetrate
my sleep-numbed mind, really made me look at this piece of rhythmic poetry
in a new way. If art can truly be judged entirely by its ability to be
interpreted in new and thought-provoking ways, then Will Smith's halting
attempts at pop-stardom can only be described in the same way as everything
he's done since 1994: "Fresh".
It wasn't this fresh sound that truly awoke me, however, so much as Ashnil's
primal, angry snuffling at noticing it. By the time he actually awoke,
mind
you, I was well and truly out of bed and almost finished preparing to go
out
(I'd had to hike the volume on my iPhone-beatbox way up, too)... but that
before-time in which he wasn't quite awake, but just twisting his body
into new shapes while snorting like a truffle-hog is one of those bizarre
memories of Japan that will stay with me forever.
Incidentally, if "Boom, Shake the Room" can't wake him, I don't know
WHAT he uses as an alarm clock back at home. Probably he just hooks the
little hammer on an old-school alarm clock straight up to his head.
Our
breakfast-journey this day took us back into the depths of Whitey's, where
we again followed the strange series of landmarks that would lead us to
the station. Down at the big red arcade, first left at the greenish
fountain, up the orange
tunnel incline, right at the blue flags where the sararymans like to hide
and slurp their noodles, up the stairs with the white sign, past the
affectionately
termed "snot girls" (a series of young ladies cheerfully handing
out packets of tissues every
morning), down the smaller tunnel with the yellow sign, and then off to
the left.
If they painted things consistent colours, I think I would be lost all
over again.
Figuring our chances for gorging ourselves on delicious Japanese baked
goods were about
to come to an end, we took the train deeper into Osaka and immediately
sought out the traditional train-bakery. You know the one I mean: the one
that's always wafting the scent of fresh deliciousness right down the tunnel
you always have to walk through. The squinty yellow bastards have it all
planned out!
Since it was my last chance and all, I let them get away with it. In fact,
despite gritting my teeth at the thought of the curry-melon-bread
earlier, I repeated my scientific method of holding up various breads,
examining them closely, and comparing them to half-remembered episodes
of Shakugan no Shana, trying to decide whether these, at last, were the
famous Melon Bread. By the Ancestors, I was definitely going to have at
least one. Eventually,
I made my choice.
Given that her own melon bread was a scant centimeter across, I decided
to spoil Shana-tan and
let her have the first crack at it. She was so happy, she hardly knew where
to start.
In her opinion, it was certainly a kind of Melon Bread, but nothing to
write home
about.
Eventually, several baked goods later, we moved on to our real objective.
Where were we going, you ask?
That's a good question.
See, we were looking for a place called Den Den Town. It had been billed
by Ashnil and the guidebooks as "Osaka's answer to Akihabara".
As such, given the past evening's fruitless online search for properly
saucy co-ed hot-springs nearby, I decided this was probably the next best
way to spend my day. Judging from his pre-emptive drooling (over electronics
but not hot springs?), Ashnil agreed. We both liked Akihabara a lot; so
Den Den Town it would be. Apparently, a very popular place called Namba
walk was right on our way, as well. Excited, we grabbed a map and rolled
out!
This is where the trouble began. You see, not only was it difficult to
tell where we were going, but it was raining terribly. Namba walk - billed
as a fashion center, and the perfect place for 'people watching' - appeared
to be deserted. Well, not entirely deserted: one man, clearly dedicated
to being hip beyond all reason, was gamely dancing on in the rain,
while watching himself in a big mirror.
Now, random knots of breakdancing youngsters seem to be extremely
fashionable in Japan. You see them everywhere, and they have an amazing
sense of community about them. Besides, the guys are good. Real good. But
this dude wasn't like that, exactly: alone and jivin' to his own beat in
the rain, with only a remarkably waterproof beat-box and his own reflection
for company, he wasn't even breakdancing. I'm not sure what that was.
Anyways, it was so bizarre that I just had to stop and watch for
a while, if only on the off chance he would suddenly stop and just tell
everyone (in English) exactly what he thinks he's doing over there. Or
fall on his face.
Perhaps that's what the guides mean by 'people watching'. It was eerily
fascinating, in an Ashnilly sort of way. I mean, we did stop and watch
some of the dancing each time we went by. Of course, that mostly just made
it 'person' watching for most of the day, notwithstanding that we did later
get to see an actual breakdancer - a female one, in fact, in that awkward
phase just before her breasts become too large for her to comfortably spin
around upside-down while wearing a loose shirt.
In light of the part-breakdance part-bellydance style that she was evolving,
let's just say the guidebook's choice of the term 'fascinating' was on
the money with that one.
Beyond that, though, wandering Namba Walk, we didn't see a soul about.
Even the fashion stores we did see were not terribly exciting. This was
Osaka's fashion center? It was mostly just a big ol' highway with seedy-looking
food joints on the side. Moreover, the map didn't match up at all. We began
to wonder where Namba Walk was exactly, before we realised: it was in the
Osaka Underground.
Almost completely by chance, we eventually stumbled over a tunnel entrance
going down which happened to be labeled "Namba Walk" in a way we could
actually read.
At any rate, the so-called 'people watching' there proved reasonably unsatisfying
also. I did see some dudes who made my flesh crawl, and there were a couple
of girls wearing tight T-shirts with words they probably didn't understand
on them... but given that I didn't have Ashnil's lifetime of stalker-skills,
my attempt at people-watching was reasonably fruitless. Ash, by contrast,
apparently saw a great many hot young things, and enjoyed the trip greatly.
Either those are X-Ray glasses he wears, or he just has a wider spectrum
of hotness (or youth?) he likes watching; either way, I eventually dragged
him outside to go find Den Den Town.
Of course, by this time, we had pretty much decided that our map was useless
to us (not least because of rain damage). Naturally, we picked up another
one. What struck us, however, quite immediately was that this map didn't
line up with the first. Nor, in fact, did it line up with that of the flustered
seven-eleven owner who tried to explain to us that we had walked five blocks
in the wrong direction.
Nor did any of these three seem to match with the map we picked up next
- notable for actually having Den Den Town on it prominently. This was
a good thing because neither the storekeeps, nor the locals, nor even the
poor snot girls, had any idea what we meant by "Den
Den Town".
We figured perhaps it was called something else here... but there it was,
large as life, on this next map. Despite the fact that the map didn't look
anything like the others, we felt validated. It was a real place. Or dimension.
Later, we realised this map depicted the third layer of Osaka, Upper Osaka,
practically a whole 'nother city raised high above street level.
We were carrying about five maps, and hopelessly lost, by the time we
realised we had walked past the same lingerie store three times. This we
mostly realised because every time we did walk past I made the same off-colour
crack about buying Jinman some crisp, lacy panties (and Ashnil got the
same horrified I'm-picturing-it look on his face).
Therefore, we decided to go in a completely different direction, and try
to follow map number four. It turned out that no road existed where the
map seemed to be leading us, however, and we ended up stuck in a department
store, unable to find an exit until some friendly store girls, mystified
by our situation, were kind enough to lead us out directly, and point us
toward Den Den Town. We followed their directions exactly, and ended up
back at the lingerie store.
In retrospect, perhaps they were hinting at something?
Regardless, it was evening by the time we actually decided we'd found
Den Den Town: we had spent the better part of the entire day walking circles
around Osaka. A further surprise was to come, however: Den Den Town seemed
to sell nothing but cabbage, neon tubes, spinning emergency lights and
old vinyl records. Having spent all day trying to get there, let's just
say we were underwhelmed.
So, well, I did what I had done back in Akihabara to find all sorts of
entertaining out-of-the-way nooks and crannies with hidden treasures, girls
dressed as maids, and good prices. I ducked into an alley, and headed up
the first elevator I saw.
With Ashnil getting edgy beside me, we visited a number of unmarked landings
with locked doors which didn't look very much like shopfronts. I reminded
him pointedly that we had used just this method back in Tokyo to find all
of the best merchandise, and that he should just trust me. He replied that
he would stay in the elevator and let me check the other floors myself
if I really wanted. I rolled my eyes, punched the next floor button, waited,
stepped out, cast a last dismissive glance at my cowardly companion, then
lit up when I saw what looked to be an actual store on this level, and
walked in the door.
Ten seconds later I was back in the elevator, furiously punching the 'down'
button, and praying to Buddha (or whatever the God of Japan is...) that
no-one had
seen me enter. With Ashnil getting steadily more worried, I leapt out of
the elevator, hooked his arm in my umbrella and dragged him out of the
building, glancing back often and refusing to stop moving or answer his
questions until we were well away from that entire neighborhood.
What I saw in that room I still haven't shared fully with anyone, although
some folk have pieced together from my partial descriptions that I had
stumbled into some kind of a tucked-away, hush-hush 'love-hotel supplies'
store - or, more precisely, their showroom. You have only to look at what
is considered 'mainstream' for love-hotels in Osaka (who proudly advertise
that their facilities include schoolrooms with chains on the walls, torture
chambers or unicorn-themed orgy halls) to get some idea of what sort of
thing these people would consider illicit enough to hide away at the top
of an unmarked elevator in a no-name part of town.
I really was terrified that they would follow me, do things to me, for
spying on their secret activities... and so I grabbed Ashnil and I ran.
Every cloud has a silver lining, however. Our headlong dash brought us
out of the side-streets and off the side of the apparently "not to
scale" map
we were following... well outside the hellhole we had mistakenly believed
to be our destination, and right into the middle of the real Den Den Town.
As disturbing as the circumstances of our arrival may have been, we were
elated to be there. Den Den Town glittered around us, every bit the nerd
paradise we were
expecting,
and much much more.
As evidenced by the fact that guidebooks seem to consider it a tourist
attraction just to stand and gawk at them, Osaka-siders seem to think differently
to most Japanese folks, and Den Den Town was a perfect example of this
thinking in action. It was rather as though someone here had heard of Akihabara
in Tokyo and decided "we need something like that" without ever bothering
to go look at the original. Therefore, just as Akihabara was the center
of Electronics and Manga Culture in Tokyo, so too Den Den Town was the
center of Elecrtonics and Manga Culture in Osaka; but where in Tokyo, 'electronics'
refers to laptops, iPods and fancy watches, in
Osaka it means bootleg auto-parts, neoprene and power-drills. Manga Culture
in Tokyo means cute little figurines and comics with big-eyed girls. Manga
Culture in Osaka means honest-to-goodness art galleries displaying wall-to-wall
manga-style art.
Quite
simply, they had taken every definition and expanded it, with the result
that Tokyo's nerd paradise had here been reborn as a place so eclectic,
so colourful, and so incredibly passionate about it all, that it was truly
inspirational for us to experience.
People occasionally joke that a city was 'built on rock and roll' or some
such drivel... but here in Den Den Town every brick, every tile, everything
had been laid down for the same purpose. It was somebody's dream, a lot
of people's dream, and it was self-sustaining. A place to escape from reality
and shop-'til-you-drop
yourself into another world, your every indulgeance feeding the living,
breathing monster that had grown into Den Den Town.
The variety was amazing. Back in Tokyo, we had been astounded when small
stores full of stuff we enjoyed would turn out to go up some eight storeys.
Here in Osaka, those same stores were just as tall... but they had multiple
storefronts, each with some eight separate stories of their own. Some of
the unique ideas we came across, like the manga art print gallery (selling
limited edition prints by famous artists or production houses), were even
more interesting, breathing fresh life into the same ideas.
Where Tokyo had had a rack of realistic toy firearms, Osaka had municions
stores so chock-full of realistic military hardware, uniforms, kevlar,
etc., that they looked like army supply stores. Where Tokyo had a variety
of kits
of cars and sailing ships to put
together, Osaka had entire fleets of battleships from every era, exquisitely
handcrafted, and entire hardware stores full of tiny precision instruments,
minuscule versions of the auto-parts outside, airbrushes, special paints,
schematics, kits, motors, electronics, etc., for you to design, build and
paint your own model cars. It was incredible. A million different new potential
hobbies, interests and projects poured into my head, the tools of the trade,
books, project ideas, magazines and examples laid out in neat rows to capture
the imagination.
And, of course, there was all the familiar stuff: figurines, comics, blah,
blah, blah, everything to feed your Anime obsession... it's just that all that
stuff was overshadowed, almost, by the sheer number of other pursuits on offer.
Where Tokyo was more consumeristic, I would say that Osaka focused on more
creative pursuits: building figurines rather than buying them, for instance.
The art dimension of manga rather than the most popular comics of the moment.
At any rate, we wandered Den Den Town until late at night, encouraged to leave
only by the fact that even though we only had to find the closest railway station,
we were still going to have a heck of a lot of trouble finding our
way home.
We did find the station eventually, although I would be lying if I said
we didn't get lost again on the way back. It just didn't particularly matter
that we were lost, since any station would do for our purposes, and no
amount of confusing maps could keep us from one of those since they were
everywhere. The station we did eventually end up in was a fascinating place
all on its own: quite unexpectedly, it doubled as an art gallery.
No
Manga art this time, but long walls of replica paintings, apparently created
through the use of some sort of advanced printing process to transfer original
paintings onto thick ceramic tiles. Why ceramic, I have no idea - I wouldn't
even have known about the ceramic part if I hadn't read some of the plaques.
The originals of these paintings hang in a famous art gallery somewhere
in the United States, but thousands of commuters walk past them every day,
here, just as part of their commute to work. That is as baffling as it
is brilliant, and I think more train stations ought to do it. What harm
to throw a bit of education to the masses, eh?
Speaking of which, although we got back late at night, there was one thing
left to see - and that was late-night Japanese edutainment. We got back
to the hotel pretty worn out - in fact, I was too tired even to make my
usual eyebrow-raising suggestions regarding the saucy storefronts that
surrounded us. We weren't too tired, however, to flick on the TV, and what
we saw would change our conception of learning forever.
In Japan, people need only turn on their television set in the evening,
and they can learn anything their little hearts desire, from science through
history and foreign languages, by means of the hijinx of a whole lot of
cute girls and animated 3D pandas, or from game shows which - rather than
reward knowledge of random trivia, or good guessing - reward one's knowledge
in a particular subject area. I was amazed. Hilarious as it was to watch
English-speakers say completely different words (which would be spelled
the same in Japanese) and see the poor Japanese people unable to differentiate
the words, it was clear this was a potent educational tool. They even show
university-level lectures in the various sciences, as well as presenting
scientific papers on TV at certain times! Instead
of going in to school or uni every day, wouldn't you rather sit down for
some TV in the evening and have a bevvy of attractive young ladies and
giant pandas
teach you whatever you need to know?
I know I would.
Day 17 - In which Liv loses his umbrella, but saves a girl's life
Today, being the high-flyin' travel-hounds that we were, Ash and I decided
to have our breakfast in Himeji. I kid you not: such is the awesomeness
of bullet trains, that we could decide on a whim to go eat breakfast in
the shadow of Himeji Castle, if we so chose; and it didn't cost us a thing!
We were intending to chow down on more delicious crépes, as on our last
trip to Himeji, but some closed stores and the alluring pull of baking-scents
(those sneaky Japanese!) assured that in time we substituted this idea
with a new and better idea of devouring a sizeable quantity of delicious
baked-goods.
Thereafter, we
hopped back on the train and headed down some local lines to a lovely little
place called Tatsuno, in Hyōgo prefecture. This should by no means be confused
with the oldcity of Tatsuno, in Hyōgo prefecture, which despite having
exactly the same name is (of course) a completely different place.
Tatsuno had the feel of being a quaint little village, despite actually
being a remarkably large town with all the amenities. Upon alighting here,
we had the acute feeling of being in the middle of nowhere. We certainly
knew what we were here for: Tatsuno was celebrating the Sakura Matsuri,
which translates to "Cherry Blossom Festival", and we had decided that
there could be no better way to cap off our trip to Japan. What eluded
us, however, is any idea of where we were going. As it happened, the town
had not gone to the trouble of putting up gigantic billboards saying "IGNORANT
FOREIGNERS GO THIS WAY"... or if it had, they'd probably spelled it
more like "知らない外国人がこの方向に進まなければならない!", which didn't really help
us any.
Luckily for us, the Sakura Matsuri attracts a sizeable population of Japanese
natives (in fact, we were some of the exceedingly few gaijin to
be found there), resulting in a reasonably obvious marching-ants trail
of happy Japanese people. Given their infectious good cheer, however, I
did want to make sure we were not inadvertently being drawn into a sign-holders'
convention, so I spent half a minute in furious concentration, and managed
to string together the sentence "Excuse me, madam, but my friend and I
are looking for the Cherry Blossom Festival." I lacked the skills
to finish the thought, so I followed that up with an exaggerated shrug,
and more than a little vapid confusion on my face. The stooped old lady
I targeted with this little gem of communicative ability replied by giving
me a toothy grin, exclaiming a torrent of curious sounds which may have
been a suggestion that we follow her, and
waggling her cane
excitedly in my direction.
We took this as confirmation of sorts, although we eventually moved on
to following the line of people, given that the old lady didn't exactly
have much hustle to her, and we didn't have a week of festival to look
forward to as she did. Putting on some speed, we struck deep into the heart
of Tatsuno, a pair of wandering Samurai eventually serving as suitable
proof that we had gone the right direction. After a bit of a photo-op,
we continued up the hill towards the temple and its majestic surrounds.
One thing I should mention about Tatsuno was that unlike in the various
big cities we had been touring, there was little to see here that wasn't
distinctly Japanese in its appearance and flavour. From the houses to the
various walled complexes to the school we were able to peer into from high
above, everything looked like it had been puzzled together from old Japanese
movies and anime backdrops. More-so even than in Kamakura, we had the feeling
of having stepped right into the idealized picture of urban Japan we were
familiar with from a hundred different stories - except that it wasn't
idealised: everything was exactly the way it was portrayed in their imagery,
down to the beautiful neighborhoods, the cherry blossoms, and the neat
little gardens full of tiny trees. It made the whole place feel warm and
familiar, like an old shoe full of merry yellow people.
Well, no, probably not very much like that at all.
The Sakura Matsuri was in full swing by the time we got there, even though
we arrived fairly early. Families here went well beyond our Australian
"shrimp on the barbie", using portable gas stoves and a variety of cooking
implements to throw up great clouds of savoury smoke. Fathers and mothers
cooked up a storm of sizzling seafood delectations as their extended families
lounged on big blue tarps and watched the cherry blossoms bloom. All around,
children and adults in fancy, multi-coloured armour raced this way and
that, assembling into units, barking orders, and generally organizing into
a massive parade that blanketed the entire shrine area, filling it with
smiling children, colourful clan banners and a few remarkably unexcited
Japanese horses who, presumably, had seen it all before.
Here,
Ash and I essentially parted ways. It wasn't something we discussed, but
mostly a function of differing priorities. I, for one, wanted to try out
every ice cream flavour and eat a squid on a stick. Whenever I saw Ashnil
wandering about, it was with his massive camera hanging at crotch-height,
the telephoto lens extending suggestively to just about double its length
whenever he caught sight of a pretty young girl. I wisely stayed away.
I wasn't really sure when the actual parade would start, and the ways
were soon clogged with parade-marchers to such an extent that I figured
it had to be happening soon, so I took advantage of the lull to pick myself
out a good vantage point. My initial thought was to head up to the temple and
watch the parade from above, but this did not work out so well given the
temple being off-limits due to parade preparations. It did result in some
fine photo-op chances, however, as I got to watch the Mysterious Shiny
Temple Thing™ get hauled out for our parade-viewing pleasure. While I'm
not exactly sure what the deal is with that, I did know from a weird Japanese
cheerleading game for the DS that it was quite the honour to hold the big
shiny thing, and that everyone in the procession behind it has earned that
honour in some way. Behind it marched a variety of temple types with what
looked like foxes on sticks, and a bunch of high school students in uniform,
who presumably were some sort of honour students, prefects or SRC.
Behind them, around them, above them, and just about everywhere the ground
was firm enough marched Liviu, getting some quality parade photoes from
a variety of angles; then eventually realising that they were just getting
into position, and the parade
hadn't actually
started yet.
Not for the first time this trip, I cursed my lack of wide-angle lens.
There were so many people in so many colours and costumes absolutely filling
this temple complex to the brim, that it was unfortunate I couldn't get
a picture that truly captured the vastness of this celebratory parade.
I did, however, do what I could to get a whole lot of quality pictures of
the event - which I'm happy to share with anyone who's interested. Many
of these, I got by climbing up precarious slopes, hanging on by the hook
of my
umbrella, and taking panoramic or zoom shots of parts of the crowd. I'm
sure many of the Japanese families around me figured I was either crazy
or a journalist, or both, but it did net me some nice photos. It also allowed
me to evade the crush of native Japanese photographers, who numbered in
the hundreds and surrounded every photo-worthy target thickly, their gigantic
cameras and massive extendable lenses more over-the-top even than Ashnil's.
I felt somewhat overmatched by the thousands of dollars of camera equipment
every one of them seemed to be carrying, but I doubt if many of them got
half as many good photoes as I did just by perching as high-up as I could
go.
It
wasn't too much longer until the parade was in full swing, and the people
began to move out. Having gotten quite enough overhead shots, I decided
to maneuver my way into the path of the parade and get some shots of them
marching past. Unfortunately, I quite failed to understand just how many
Japanese folk were attending this parade: despite the fact that the path
they would follow wended its way through just about this whole section
of Tatsuno, nevertheless every single nook and cranny was jam-packed with
camera-wielding Japanese folk, each of them fiercely territorial and with
giant-er camera equipment than mine.
Thus, I didn't really end up able to take a great many quality photoes
of the parade going by, but I did get to watch in amazement at just how
many people made it up: the parade proceeded by age-groups, with each age-range
of children grouped into a different clan group, with a different flag
and differently coloured uniforms. The kids were led by fancily-attired
Samurai who were leading them in a repeated shout of what sounded like
"IT IS OOON!" or maybe "GET IT ON!". I still don't
know what they were actually saying, but they sounded very excited about
it. The marching adults, by contrast, were not terribly cheerful. With
an air about them of having done this a million times and gotten terribly
sick of it all, they shouted their catchcry with visibly reduced enthusiasm,
which may explain why they ushered all the children out ahead of them.
Behind those fancy soldiers came the procession of Shiny Temple Thing™
bearers, their accompanying green-clad temple types with the fox-tails
on sticks, then the school children in uniform, a variety of drums and
things, and finally the Samurai on horseback.
This
procession marched its way through town in a winding path, ending their
mighty parade at the foot of the castle-like town wall which led to a raised
traditional garden which was chock-a-block with picnickers and cherry blossom
trees. Here the Japanese photographer types clustered most thickly, gathered
to snap Miss Tatsuno (the winner of today's beauty competition) and the
entirety of the parade, as they gathered beneath the city wall.
Here, not even my trick of clambering up to high places could secure me
a good vantage point free of crazy Japanese photographers, because even
the high places were being camped by old men with super-expensive cameras
- nor, I realised, did I still have my umbrella to hang off things with.
At some point, I must have left it hanging on an awning or a tree somewhere back
at the temple. And so, I was left vying with the masses to stake my claim
to a perch somewhere with good vantage. This took a bit of work and a lot
of clambering, but luckily my much smaller camera and much lighter build
allowed me to eventually wedge myself up on a high perch right in front
of the gates, squashed up against a couple of old men, a woman who looked
like she would've liked to get down if she could find a way out, and a
number of children who - like me - occupied the very edge of the crumbling
masonry, and jostled each other alarmingly.
Shortly thereafter, the parade began to pour into the square in a seemingly
well-rehearsed arrangement. I also got a glimpse of both Miss Tatsunos,
the competition having apparently yielded two winning beauties considered
equally worthy, and got to see the Samurai blowing their conch shells,
and a variety of other little rituals I didn't really understand. Below,
annoying photographers in ugly-ass shirts competed to get in the way of
my framing good pictures, but my high vantage point was sufficient to cut
out most of them, and get a great view of all the pageantry as it happened.
Behind me, the small children - apparently bored - had seemingly decided
that this precarious position was the perfect place to bring out their
respective hoards of Yu-Gi-Oh cards and get some serious trading on. As
such, numerous small boys were laying out their card collection in some
sort of order, haggling like fishmongers and stepping backwards to lay
down more cards without apparent regard for the crumbling wall-top on which
they were standing. A tiny little girl who was maybe four years of age,
meanwhile, leaned out over the edge to watch the other children frolick
below. Her limbs were positively minuscule, and she was wearing what looked
like tiny flowery pajamas; I remember thinking that my mother had a porcelain
doll which wasn't much smaller than her, and being amazed that a real,
functioning human being could be so very little.
Now, if you know me (or have ever tried to teach me defensive driving),
you
know that my brain is always measuring the most unlikely possibilities
about any given situation, and treating them as if they were not just possible
but likely. This isn't terribly useful when I overlook the most obvious
things because I'm focusing on what might happen in some obscure circumstance
(thanks for your patience, Dad... ), but in this case it did
mean that rather than watching the
parade more
closely or wondering how I might get down (or why the flagstone under me
felt so unsteady...), I happened to be thinking at that precise point
in time: "If that little girl goes plummeting off the wall... would
I be able to catch her?"
Not only was I thinking this, but I had actually freed up one of my hands,
presumably to measure the distance between us or something (who knows how
my mind works? Not I...). Whatever my subconscious thought process may
have been, however, this occurred about half a second before one of the
little boys - the one I thought of as her brother - took a small step backward,
absorbed in his trading-card marketeering, and inadvertently gave his sister
a light shove. Given her feather-weight and dangerous position, this was
more than enough to push her forward in a way that would almost certainly
have made her plummet to her death on the flagstones below.
Except I caught her arm.
It was a simple thing. One moment she was stumbling forward, the next
she was back on her feet, watching eagerly as the people went by down below.
She didn't look at me, nor even smile. She just kept looking down. I
don't think she even realised she had been in any danger. Certainly the
little boy never noticed,
nor any of the old guys with their eyes to Canon or Nikon lenses as thick
as your
arm.
I wanted to say something. Something like "please be careful",
or
"you
could have killed your sister, you little bastard"... but I didn't
know the words. So I just tucked away my camera after brushing it off and
checking it over a little (since it had taken a bit
of a smack against the stonework when I let go of it to grab her). Then
I sat down on the edge of the wall with my legs out over the side, and
edged a little closer to the little girl and her brother. I kept my hands
free, just in case.
Once
the parade had dispersed, I was free to observe the remainder of the festival.
Back at the temple, a new procession had formed, this time consisting of
the older women of the town. Where the young ones played soldier, and the
older ones competed for the title of Miss Tatsuno, the older ladies of
town had their own contribution to make to the festival. Gussied up in
a Geisha-like style, they too walked in a number of groups, each of which
had their own colour. They carried odd little clapper instruments, and
were walking in a slow, elegant dance, clicking their clapper thingies
at intervals and occasionally producing other small instruments. All around
them, speakers played "Hana Matsuri" (Flower Festival) songs, or played
back the music of a small number of traditional musicians who were performing
in a raised wooden box up by the temple.
They moved very slowly, and I had plenty of time to clamber up into the
woods above the path they took, to try to get some pictures from above.
Unfortunately, this didn't work so terribly well this time around, and
all I got was a splinter in the hand for my trouble. The cherry blossoms
and such weren't really in the right positions to use them to frame the
line of dancing Geishas in a nice vignette photograph, and the mountainside
was so steep that it actually took me some time to get back down.
The Geisha parade ended in a different spot: namely, in the midst of the
traditional festival stalls. This wasn't a huge festival (apparently...
it seemed pretty big to me), so the selection
of stalls was reasonably limited. I did see all the staples, however...
excepting only the goldfish-catching stalls these festivals are supposed
to have. Unfortunately, the fishing was limited to catching bouncing balls
in a cup, which seemed a lot less challenging to me.
In
exploring this section, I was able to enjoy a variety of interesting festival
foods. In particular, Japan appears to have four key flavours of ice-cream
to our three. Every ice cream brand or place worth anything at all in Australia
will at the very least offer Chocolate, Strawberry, and Vanilla. In Japan,
however, this must-have list includes one other flavour: Melon.
If you've never had Melon ice cream, I can only say that I have no idea
why it doesn't seem to be mainstream anywhere else. The moment you eat
Melon ice cream, you can't help but think "Of COURSE. This flavour
was MADE for ice cream". It was basically like a cross between rock-melon
and cantaloupe, except even more cool and refreshing.
I also got to indulge another culinary-wish-list article. You see, beyond
the McHottuDogu and Takoyaki I had already had, there was one other must-have
item I simply had to try. I would go so far as to say that it was part
of my reason for trying so hard to find a festival we could attend (because,
according to Ash's comprehensive guidebooks, there actually were no festivals
within the period of our visit). This, of course, was the Squid on a Stick.
This must-have culinary item is pretty much what it says. It's a squid.
It's on a stick. Basically, they baste it in all kinds of fabulous spices,
cook it on a hot-plate for a while, then
shove a stick through it and marinate the heck out of it. Without meaning
to brag, I am quite the squid connoisseur. The moment I put it in my mouth,
I knew I was dealing with quality.
That was before I tried to chew it. Chewing, you will find, is a whole
'nother matter. It's not easy to chew a squid, on or off the stick. Gnawing
at it kept me busy for a while.
As
to the rest of the festivities, there was plenty to see. Mostly, of course,
the festival is rather a sedate one outside of the parading: people sit
about on big blue mats and eat a whole lot of seafood (with or without
putting it on sticks first). There were a variety of interesting cultural
antics in evidence, however. In particular, there was one large knot of
young men who - as I was wandering by trying to bite through my squid -
began engaging in some manner of masculine ritual which consisted of tearing
off their shirts, grabbing what looked like a bunch of large wooden clubs,
and proceeding to laugh uproariously as they beat the hell out of each
other, then picked each other up and crowdsurfed to the booze, where each
of them would down a heck of a lot of alcohol, and the beatings would begin
again.
I can't say for certain whether this was some kind of tradition, or just
everyday college-male idiocy.
Outside of my cultural observations, I largely just wandered the stalls
looking at trinkets, and explored around the town itself. Tatsuno was home
to a variety of intriguing tourist hot spots, such as Tatsuno Castle, and
the (apparently famous) Tatsuno Light-Coloured Soy Sauce Museum. There
just wasn't enough time in the day to see them all, but what I did wander
of the town was very interesting. Not long after, however, it was time
to find Ashnil-san and head on home. By the time I had muscled my way through
that squid on a stick, the time had come to leave here, and prepare for
our flight home.
It was with trepidation that we returned to the confusing walkways and
sleazy surrounds of Osaka, looking with an almost motherly fondness at
all of the weird sex stores and tucked away shrine thingies that surrounded
our Hotel. Now that we were leaving, every stone, every street-sign, every
brightly-coloured catgirl hooker, hit us with a profound sense of loss
and nostalgia.
It was that kind of night.
Our packing was over quickly, and dinner was plain but delicious. Soon,
we began to feel the reality of the situation: our sojourn in this distant,
bizarre country had come to an end. Tomorrow, we went home, flying back
to Australia.
Accustomed as I was to sampling every drink on offer in Japan's wacky
vending machines, I pulled out some of my last few Japanese Yen, and
bought myself yet another completely incomprehensible drink-bottle. Tonight,
it was an "Alligator", which was some kind of melony energy
drink with an aftertaste like spring onion, which came in a green, scaly
glass bottle. It was to be my last bizarre Japanese drink. Just one more,
for the road.
It was disgusting, of course. Completely disgusting; but that didn't
worry me. In that place, at that moment, for that brief piece of time:
it tasted like liquid gold.
The new Magic core set is being released, exactly one week before the Australian National Championships.. this means I need new cards, and the cards don't go on sale in stores until the day I'm supposed to start playing at nationals..
With this in mind, I'm inviting you all to come play at the prerelease event in the CBD, where you will all have fun and beat up people in children's card games, and I will score lots of cards (hopefully).
DETAILS:
Date: 11 July 2009
Time: 09:30 - 15:00 (- 20:00 for 2nd flight)
Location: Sydney CBD: Grace Hotel (York St)
As far as I can afford, I will be paying for you guys to play. It's $35 each, you get 6 boosters to build your sealed deck with. 1 booster prize for turning up (first timers) and 4 boosters for competing in the tournament (casual flight prizes are good! :D )
This totals 11 boosters worth of cards for $35, which is a good deal for me to buy off you, or you can pay for yourself and keep them (and hopefully lend me any cards I need ^^)
It'll be a good day out, there are 2 times to choose from (or both, if you like it that much!) and the new set promises to be entertaining and fun, and a little easier to play than original magic (they simplifying some rules).
Regarding The RANLAN below, I hope some of you would like to come play cards anyway, then head to the LAN after.. the 9:30am tournament finishes around 3:30-4pm, so it's still goodly amounts of time to head up to the LAN afterwards.
As I have already discussed with most of you, it is coming up to the next RanLAN.
Now the NWTJ attendance at RanLAN 2009 II was very disappointing, but I am hoping for better attendence this time.
The details are as follows:
When: July 11th and 12th 2009 Where: My house Why: Because gamrong is much better when there are people about. What to bring: Computers, network cables, mouse pads and money for food.
Plans for particular games are welcome. There is of course a book of faces event for this too.
This is just a quick open invitation to all and sundry to get a general idea of who would be interested in making a trip to the snow (Thredbo in particular) in July.
The tentative plans are the moment are: When: 17th-19th July What: Friday: Leaving Sydney at 6pm from Central Bus Terminal, getting into Jindabyne quite late Saturday/Sunday: Skiing/Boarding/Whatever you want Sunday: Travel home, getting into Central quite late Who: Anyone who is interested How Much: At this stage if we go with Oz Snow Adventures it will be $468, which covers:
Transport there and back
Transport to the snow
National Park fees
Accomodation for 2 nights
Breakfast each morning
Dinner on Saturday night
Lift passes for 2 days
Ski, pole and boot rental for 2 days
There may be additional costs to this if you want to take lessons or rent ski pants and stuff, all that is listed on the website. (Snowboarding is $10 extra for some reason...)
So, if anyone is interested, let me know soon-ish via this post or send me an email separately and I can get the ball rolling.
Turn 10 saw some epic battles with 9 banners involved in fighting in the south. The Dark Elves, ably assisted by their Undead allies, returned to form, massacring the Lizardmen enroaching on their territory. While the Lizardmen were able to fortify the bridge over the Scaly River, they now seem to face another threat as the numerous Dwarf forces seek to expand their realm from the western mountains. The Tomb Kings attempted to secure their flank by crushing the Ogres and driving them from the island. Choosing their position wisely, the Ogres prepared for a Last Stand to rescue their hopes for a future on Mehetia. After a tense battle the Ogres were victorious, driving back the Undead armies with only slight losses themselves. The Ogre presence is secure for the time being.
Current leaderboard
Player
Score
Banners
Lunzo
26
9
Elo
22
7
Ash
18
5
Syfro
16
5
Nemisii
3
2
Grublord
0
0
Turn 9
For the first time the Druchii have been defeated! Wave after wave of cold-blooded Lizardmen threw themselves at the Dark Elves and drove them back from the bridge over the Scaly River. Time will tell if the Lizardmen can press the advantage and make further inroads into the Dark Elves territory in the face of numerous reinforcements. Late last night the Tomb Kings pre-emptively marched on the Ogres, catching them in their camp before they could set out to reclaim their HQ. Sweeping down from the mountains the forces of Khemri defeated the Ogres, who may have one last chance to survive. The Dwarven forces, enjoying a temporary reprieve, further consolidated their position in the peaks surrounding Gebirgsschicksal and prepared for future conflict.
Turn 8
Treachery! The Tomb Kings have turned on their Ogre allies and occupied the Ogre Kingdom's landing site and the adjacent coastline. Quick action and clever generalship will be required if the Ogre expedition to Mehetia is not to be cut short. The Dwarves continued strengthening their grip on the western mountains and the Dark Elves finally advanced into territory 60, defeating the opposing Lizardmen. The white ships of Uluthan have been seen departing the eastern shores of Mehetia, carrying the bloodied remnants of The Boned Company who made a valiant attempt to regain the High Elf landing site but were ultimately scattered by the notorious Blackiron Company. With this victory the Dark Elves have cemented their hold on the lead and are ready to turn all 8 banners on the island towards the next threats, the three realms tied for second place.
Turn 7
Turn 7 saw a return to hostilities, the Dwarves marched on the fortified positions of their enemies (ie. everyone) but were thrown back by both the Lizardmen (terr. 65) and the Ogres (terr. 28) (with help from their undead allies). The Lizardmen became the first realm to halt the Druchii advance, fighting the Dark Elves to a draw and causing both banners to retreat from territory 60 to lick their wounds. The High Elves continued their scorched earth strategy, ensuring that every territory lost to the Dark Elves would be useless for a time. Unfortunately their sole surviving banner took too long about the razing and could not move in time to prevent the Dark Elves from taking the High Elf HQ. With only 3 more turns of supplies left, those High Elves better get lucky, fast.
Turn 6
Turn 6 involved a lot of strategic manoeuvring, but little actual conflict. The Dwarves chasing the razing Ogres stopped to recover their territory, rather than pursue the Ogres, who had fortified in preparation. The Lizardmen that had defeated the Dwarves previously fortified their new found territory, as did the Dwarves in their HQ, leading to a Klatchian standoff. The Ogres ensured their continued survival by allying with the Tomb Kings and performed some complicated manoeuvres with the Tomb Kings whereby each realm sent their banners into the other realm's territory. As has been the pattern of recent turns, the real action was happening in the east of the island. The High Elves retreated from Van Dieman's Eiland, razing it as they went. Also, the first direct conflict between the Lizardmen and Dark Elves occurred in territory 63. Despite the help of 2 supporting High Elf banners the Lizardmen were massacred, leaving a Dark Elf banner within striking distance of the High Elf HQ. Will the High Elves survive the next turn? Or will the Dark Elves expand their domination of the island by performing the first player elimination of the campaign?
Turn 5
The action hotted up in Turn 5 with the Dwarves facing off against the Lizardmen and the High and Dark Elves continuing hostilities. The Dwarves marched forward from their landing site once again to face off against another army threatening their HQ. On the Plaines de Poisson battled was joined [Spoiler]
The battle began with the two armies facing off against one another across the entirety of the battlefield, Dwarven artillery being primed even as the Lizardman host marched forward as one.
Cannonballs, bolts, bullets and shrapnel flew forward from the entrenched Dwarves, but while many Lizardmen were unfortunate enough to be caught in the blasts, these casualties did little to deter their march on the Dwarves. A small contingent of Terradons stole past the Dwarven gunline and descended into the northern woods, ready to dive upon the Dwarven war machines. Xa'Bupi, the Skink general of the forces, took to the skies and joined one of the Saurus units, not fancying the thought of being stuck with his disposable brothers.
On the western flank, the Saurus Cavalry were in position to begin their charge into the side of the Dwarves, while on the Eastern flank the Terradons struck, disabling the Dwarves' Organ Gun, though at no small cost. In the center of the battlefield, the Saurus and their Skink comrades marched ever onward, and with the Dwarves in range of their blowpipes, the Skinks let loose a hail of poisoned darts upon the Dwarven warriors, inflicting only a handful of casualties. Swarms of lizards and snakes interposed themselves before the Ironbreakers, hissing threateningly and blocking their path to any of their larger brethren. The Dwarven artillery continued to rain down, killing the Kroxigors with one of the Skink regiments, but causing insufficient damage to give the Lizardmen pause.
The flank forces charged in, slaughtering the Dwarven ranged troops and engaging the Dwarven Warriors. The Saurus in the center backed off slightly, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Meanwhile, the few surviving skinks from the Eastern screen took shelter in the nearby barrio, while the last surviving Terradon dropped several boulders upon the crew of the remaining Bolt Thrower, to little effect, and was soon shot down. The Ironbreakers charged forth, trampling through the jungle swarms in their way and crashing into the barrio, causing the skinks sheltering their to quickly regret their decision.
The Ironbreakers made short work of the Skinks in the barrio, but left themselves open to a rear charge by the Skinks. Between the surprise and the two Kroxigor in the Skink ranks, the Ironbreakers held their ground but could not mount an effective resistance. Meanwhile, the Saurus Cavalry pushed into the Warriors who had turned to face them, and broke through into the Longbeards. Against the combined ferocity of the Saurus Warriors and Cavalry, the Longbeards fought bravely but ultimately did not last long. Xa'Bupi directed his unit of Saurus Warriors to move towards the flank of the Ironbreakers so as to clear the last of the Dwarven forces.
The Saurus Cavalry overran a great distance and were able to take the Ironbreakers in the flank alongside the Saurus Warriors led by Xa'Bupi, while the Skink Regiment in the north engaged the bolt thrower crew. Faced with overwhelming odds, the remaining Dwarves found themselves surrounded and kept on swinging to the last.
The lizardman armies pressed on grimly, leaving the hills carpeted with beards.
, but this time the Dwarves were overcome and were scattered, before regrouping once again at their base camp. Despite some help from their new-found allies, the Lizardmen [Spoiler]
The stable was empty. Honored Red-Eye Prophet Talhuex stared at the empty stalls, livid with reptilian rage. He slowly turned his gaze to the scout who had reported this most terrible of crimes. "Who did thisssss?"
The scout lowered his head immediately. "Elves, Honored Red-Eye Prophet, Elves came in the night and stole away our glorious Cold Ones to support their expanding army!"
"Which elves?"
"Witch elves, Honored Red-Eye Prophet."
Talhuex eyed the scout quizzically. "Which elves?"
"Witch elves, Honored Red-Eye Prophet."
Talhuex spat. "Do not presume to riddle with me, ssssscout!"
Turning aside, Talhuex ignored the scout's rushed apologies and grew thoughtful. The High Elves had never had enough sense to utilise the magnificent Cold Ones in their forces, preferring to train unreliable warm-blooded beasts of burden to support them; and their military might was suitably lessened by this grave oversight. Of course, Talhuex realised he should be grateful - it meant one less people after their resplendent Cold Ones, and of course one less genuine threat to the great plan of the Old Ones. But even so, Elves did have their uses...
Talhuex turned back to the scout, who silenced himself immediately. "The Long-Ear-Points will pay for this terrible transgression with blood! Send an envoy to the Elves; tell them that with our support they may cleanse this isle of their brethren."
Bowing abjectly, the scout replied "Of coursssse, Honored Red-Eye Prophet! It shall be done at once!" before rushing off.
Moments later, the scout returned. "Forgiveness, but... which elves?"
The look Honored Red-Eye Prophet Talhuex shot the scout was so filled with pure loathing that the scout yelped and fled at once. Talhuex shook his head side to side.
This was going to be a long day.
, the High Elves were unable to enter the forest, being pushed by the numerous Dark Elf forces [Spoiler]
Moranoth watched with satisfaction as his shades and dark riders ferried supplies between the forest clearing and the coast along animal trails. The supply had been sufficient to feed another army.
Walking over to where the dark riders were loading food sacks, he gave three of them a rolled scroll each, sealed with his family crest.
"See to it that these get to your commanders safely."
The rapid pace of the Druchii advance on Mehetia brought even his cold, embittered heart some joy.
. Things look grim for the Asur as yet more Druchii warriors arrive with every passing turn. Elsewhere on the island the Ogres retreated before the advancing Dwarves [Spoiler]
"Hey boss, those gnoblars you sent scout'n are back, they say them dwarfs are comin' this way, and spoilin' for a fight, what we gonna do?" inquired the bull put in charge of wrangling the gnoblars. Ognom, the butcher, Grunted, then sighed heavily. "After what they did to kraul's lot, I'm not letten them get anywhere near us, but I'll be damned if I let them take what's ours with a mean look, tell the boys to eat everything they can, then burn the rest. If we can't have it, then no one will!"
, pursuing a scorched earth policy to deny precious victuals to the Dwarves. The Ogres sent an exploratory banner northwards instead, but seem set to be intercepted by the multiple Legions of the Tomb Kings [Spoiler]
"That pool will be a useful tool. Never again will our forces be hindered by the lay of the land. Shemizzar has begun fortifying the land around it. In addition - " Kahamat stopped his report abruptly as a black vulture flew in to the middle of the pavilion, a papyrus scroll attached to a wicked talon. One of Alkehesh's guards retrieved the scroll and passed it to his King, who unfurled it immediately.
A moment later he spoke. "It seems battle will be upon us soon. Sehmizzar reports that a troupe of ogres approaches us from the west."
Kahamat spoke. "The ogres should be no problem. The Jackal's are close by and can intercept them before they approach the pool."
Alkehesh shook his head. "No, priest. If the Jackal's should lose then Sehmizzar will face the ogres alone. No, we must send both the Asp Legion at the pool and the Jackal's to intercept them."
"But my King, you will leave the pool undefended!" Kahamat protested. He turned to the map where the hidden ways were only partially marked. "We must keep the pool if we are to move without hindrance!"
"No we shall still defend the pool, for I shall take the Vulture's and lead them there myself!" Alkehesh turned to the captain of his guard. "Korseth, assemble my legion. It is time we returned to war!"
Kahamat watched his king leave the pavilion. "You're a fool, Alkehesh," he spoke under his breath. "You will learn one day, that ignoring the advice of the Liche Priests will have dire consequences..."
before too long. With all realms within striking distance of their enemies now, the island of Mehetia is set to erupt into violence.
Turn 4
Turn 4 saw the second battle of the campaign, with the Dark Elf Blackiron Company advancing into High Elf territory and being met by the Wyrdstone Warriors, supported by Dje Vervloekte. Despite a 10% points advantage and a pair of free powerstones the High Elves were massacred and retreated to their HQ. [Spoiler]
Raeleneth's face was grim as the courier approached in a small boat. Construction of the island's defenses was proceeding slowly, a wooden watchtower barely beginning to take shape as the Lothern Seaguard (relegated to mason duty) piled stones at its base. The wizard wasn't sure it would be ready before the main Dark Elf force arrived.
He hailed the courier himself, as soon as the elf was within shouting range. "What news from Ar'lethil Strand? Has my strategy succeeded?"
"The Druchii assaulted the Strand, my Lord, just as you prophesied. Our troops awaited them, however, and your strategy was a resounding success. Our initial wide deployment spread their forces, giving our more mobile flanks the advantage as we swept into the center; a barrage of magic, arrows and dragon-fire decimated their right flank entirely, and we were able to drive them before us as our center and right flank hit theirs simultaneously, with Lord Elfington and our bolt thrower emplacements providing ranged support."
"Ah, so the day is won! I needn't ha-"
"Ah," the courier interrupted, "with respect, my Lord, I did not say that. The Druchii massacred our forces and took the Ar'lethil Strand."
"Well of co- wait, what?" Raeleneth blinked. "You're saying we lost?"
The courier did not make eye contact as he continued, "Uhm, my Lord, it is difficult to explain... Essentially what happened was... You see, we rampaged up the center looking to sweep aside opposition and collapse their entire line. To this end, three of our most powerful units descended upon a chariot in the center, looking to overrun it. In the ensuing meleé, however, only one or two elves from each unit actually... fought..."
The War-Leader's mouth was opening and closing, but there was no reply.
The courier swallowed. "So you see, my Lord... the beasts pulling the chariot were too stupid to realise they were hopelessly outmatched, and... well, they held our entire line in place for as long as it took for the entire Druchii force to recover from their rout, surround us in advantageous positions, and then assault us in such a way that almost no-one on our side actually had a chance to fight back.... uhm, my Lord."
"Our..." this was too much for Raeleneth. "Our men just STOOD THERE, fighting three or four at a time?! What of the famed Warmage Tar'leril?"
The courier flipped some pages in his missive. "Er... it says here, my Lord, that almost all of the dark elven force was warded from magic by one cheap magical trinket, which our two wizards did not dare oppose. Warmage Tar'leril eventually decided to chance spellcasting nonetheless, and our reports indicate that he first reeled from a near-fatal magical explosion, then tried a second time and had his head burst into flames and explode as a few magical flames briefly flickered out towards the dark elves. The report goes on to indicate that this was... uhm, both noisy and messy, but entirely useless to our side, my Lord."
Raeleneth paced, clutching his head. "And our secret weapon? The Lion Chariot of Thrace?"
Flip, flip.
"Run off the road by five dark riders, my Lord. The report goes on to note that the King of Brettonia ought to consider changing his title to 'Cold-one Hearted' instead."
The War-leader's hands opened and closed in impotent fury. "And the mighty Glamrus the Flamebringer?!"
Flip.
"Slain by... two dark riders, my Lord."
Raeleneth's eyes boggled. "And our two deadly repeater bolt throwers, the pride of the elven fleet?!"
"Uhm... one... lone... dark rider... uhm, my Lord."
Raeleneth closed his eyes, massaging his temples.
"Leave me."
The courier flipped a final page.
"You should know, there were no survi-" he began.
"LEAVE ME!"
"... Yes, my Lord."
Elsewhere on the island the other realms captured more territories with notable captures of territory 32 by the Dwarves from the Ogres [Spoiler]
The scouts returned to Lord Stoutshield, “They’re running Sir, far and fast.”
“Great, I needed that excerise after being on that ironclad. Now let’s see what we can find those mountains over there, I hear that Lord Thunderhammer has already found some interesting ruins”
and the Tomb Kings finally taking control of the Pool of Dreams [Spoiler]
The skeletons snapped apart in an instant, their bones falling into a thousand pieces. Without a word, Kahamat began the incantations that would knit the fallen soldiers back together. Alkehesh paced within his pavilion glaring at the warriors surrounding him. Where his gaze fell, warriors were blasted apart by the force of his will. Kahamat stood beside his King, with only the hint of a smile on his withered visage.
After he had calmed down, Alkehesh motioned to to dead vulture on the ground. Kahamat spoke and the carrion bird rose again. "Go to Sehmizzar and let him know that he is to enter the marsh again. We must have that pool!"
. The Dark Elves also captured a special map section, Het Levendige Bos, propelling them up the leaderboard and allowing the Dark Elves to field a multitude of forces. [Spoiler]
Moranoth's Marines had successfully cut and burned their way through the forests of Mehetia. Het Levendige Bos lay before them for the taking. What treasures lay in store for the Druchii?
The Blackiron Company were given the orders to advance into High elf territory. The eagerly accepted their command and prepared for war.
Most realms also received further reinforcements, pointing to an increase in the pace of the action in turns to come.
Turn 3
Turn 3 saw the first battle of the campaign with the newly arrived Dwarves under Lord Stoutshield march out to defend their HQ from the rapidly approaching Ogres Kraul's Crushers. The Dwarves fought resolutely and utterly defeated the Ogres, scattering them all the way back to their HQ. The Lizardmen and Tomb Kings banners advanced unopposed to claim more territory [Spoiler]
Kahamat entered the pavilion of his king. When Alkehesh turned to him, he bowed low, hiding his glare. "The ships carrying the Legion of the Jackals have arrived, my King," the Hierophant spoke.
Alkehest nodded. "Send them north along the coast immediately. We cannot afford the Ogres or the Asur landing on our shores."
"As you command. And what of Prince Sehmizzar? The omens of misfortune have now disappeared."
"Send word to him that he is to march into the marsh at once. Whatever power lies within, must be ours."
-- Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name
, but the omens were still bad for the Tomb Kings, who failed a 3+ Difficult Terrain test to enter the Pool of Dreams. The Dark and High Elves manoeuvred to claim and defend their Special Map Sections, respectively [Spoiler]
Moranoth commanded that his marines enter the forest and march on Het Levendige Bos. The sorceress Elspeth had been using her magic to spy upon the enemies of the Druchii and discovered the powers they had uncovered from their special territories. Her recommendation to the captain was that they should secure a similar source of power immediately. The superstitious sailors were uneasy at moving even further away from the ocean, but none were brave enough to openly question the order of their captain...
Meanwhile a new company of soldiers had deployed at the Dark Elf HQ, and began to march Eastwards to defend their base from the advancing Asur armies.
. With Druchii and Asur banners now within striking range of one another the western shore of Mehetia seems likely to be the site of this most ancient and bitter feud reigniting into violence.
Turn 2
Turn 2 saw the players consolidating their realms in preparation for the arrival of reinforcements (more banners) and impending conflicts (Warhammer games). The Tomb Kings and Dark Elves kept to their respective side of the River Brenta, perhaps a condition of their alliance? [Spoiler]
Sehmizzar looked up from the missive with a strange expression. "My father seems confused. First he ordered us to take the shore, now he orders us back inland. It makes little sense, not with this curious marsh to our west."
"Perhaps we should request a clarification of His Majesty's orders," the under-priest Kolhiseth advised his Prince.
If Sehmizzar's lungs still worked, he would have snorted. Instead he spoke slowly, to remphasize his words. "Only a fool questions Alkehesh. Prepare the troops. We leave at dusk."
-- Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name
The High Elves left Van Dieman's Eiland with a swag of Wyrdstone and the Dwarves continued to head deep into the western mountains. [Spoiler]
Lord Thunderhammer turns to his Gyrocopter Pilots, “So where did you see this Gromgil vein?”
“Up ahead in the Mountains Sir, I have to warn you I saw some minions of Chaos in that area”
Thunderhammer grims “Excellent, it was a long journey on the Steamship, I could do with a good fight.”
He turns to his men, “Ok lets move out, keep an eye out for any signs of Chaos and lets claim this range!”
The Lizardmen regained their Ziggurat, shooting to the equal lead and offered an alliance to the Ogres. [Spoiler]
Honored Red-Eye Prophet Talhuex gazed in awe at the marvel before him. The Ziggurat was in remarkably good condition, as though the monument of the Old Ones had been awaiting their arrival all these years. The smooth granite blocks of its construction seemed to glow in the morning light, basking the field in a sublime radiance. This find would solidify their hold on Mehetia; his brethren would flock here to defend the temple; their numbers would rival the accursed Rat-spawn, and their enemies would fall before their mighty host.
A scout interrupted his reverie. "Honored Red-Eye Prophet Talhuex, he who brings fire from the sky in carefully measured doses; we have found interlopers within the temple!"
Talhuex's gaze snapped to his fellow skink. "Interlopers? Here?! How is this possible?"
The scout bowed deep as he explained, "Some of the Ogre host was lost at sea after a storm; their ships were in too poor condition to rejoin their forces, so they sheltered here. However," he added quickly, "it appears they have not yet had time to disturb the Holy Edifice, may the Old Ones bathe it in the blood of our enemies. What will become of them?" A spark appeared in the scout's eye. "Can we eat them? A few ogres will feed many of our number, Honored Red-Eye Prophet." He licked his lips, his long forked tongue flicking sharply.
Talhuex stood deep in thought. Ogres were a delicacy in Lustria, hard to come across... however...
"Grant them a vessel so that they may rejoin their forces; and bid them carry an offer of alliance to their leader."
As the scout scampered off, Talhuex's crocodilian maw elongated in the Lizardman approximation of a grin. This would be most interesting.
The Ogres accepted the Lizardman leader's offer [Spoiler]
"Hey boss, them scaly things has sent us some funny lookin' gold" "hur hur, looks like they don't want to be eaten. Tell the boys that those lizards ain't to be touched, we're working with 'em 'till they run out of gold"
and advanced southwards along the coast, towards the Dwarven HQ.
Turn 1
Turn 1 began sedately, but with obvious promise of things to come. The Lizardmen Banner of "Furies of the Marsh" moved towards the Lizardman Ziggurat (territory 66), seemingly unopposed in the sourthern part of Mehetia. The Ogre Banner "Kraul's Crushers" moved towards the Dwarven encampment. Meanwhile the Dwarves, led by Lord Thunderhammer moved towards the western mountains. The High Elf First Company passed their Difficult Terrain check and claimed Van Diemen's Eiland, shooting to the top of the leaderboard in the process. In the north the Tomb Kings "Legion of the Asp" [Spoiler]
"Is that wise, my King? Surely we can take that river bank at any time? There are much more valuable pieces of land that we could claim as ours first."
Alkehesh's eyes burned with fury as he stared at the priest. "Do not question us, priest. Obtaining that river bank is part of a bigger plan to deal with different threat, one that you cannot see through your lack of foresight." Kahamat's parched, dry face showed no emotion as he bowed, but the King could sense the priest felt he had been insulted. Alkehesh turned back to his son, with whom he had been speaking. "You will lead the legion that will take the bank. Kill those you must, enslave the rest. Our new friends will like a few more toys to play with."
"Which legion should I take, my King?" Sehmizzar asked his father.
"The Legion of the Asp."
-- Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name
and the Dark Elves "Moranoth's Marines" moved to secure a common border as the realms of Naggaroth and Khemri declared an alliance [Spoiler]
Let it be known to all the denizens of the Isle of Mehetia, that the forces of the Druchii and that of Khemri have formed an unstoppable alliance. It is our intention to drive forth from this island those interlopers that wrongfully claim it as their own. Leave now, before you face the wrath of our combined might.
-- King Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name and Captain Moranoth Lanthari
. How will the other races react? Will they band together against the evil alliance? Or employ the murderous Ogres? And how long will the evil alliance last? Only time will tell...
And so it begins...
The various players are introduced below (with more detailed introductions by the players themselves in the spoilered sections).
A Black Ark of Naggaroth has beached itself near Het Levendige Bos and is disgorging rank upon rank of pallid, black armoured Druchii.
[Spoiler]Captain Moranoth Lanthari stood on the prow of his father's slaving ship, watching the icy waves break around him. For the past three days the sorceress Elspeth Blackflame had been shut in her cabin, attempting to divine the most auspicious landing point from the winds of magic. Moranoth dreamt of the wealth in gold and slaves that would soon be his, were he to succeed in conquering the island.
Elspeth interrupted his daydream with her melodic voice, "Captain, I have determined our landing point. The winds of magic have answered my sorceries."
"And what is the answer?" the captain asked.
"23"
"Very well," answered Moranoth. Calling his first mate over he gave the order to set the course and the crew leapt into action.
(Lunzo)
A small flotilla of bone ships, rowed from Khemri by the dreaded Bone Giants, and carrying serried ranks of Skeletons, horses and chariots has landed near the Colline Asciutte.
[Spoiler]The flotilla of war galleys approached the beach with a steady implacable pace. Every rower moved with the same rhythm, as though to the beats of a silent drum. Overhead, a flock of dead birds feasted upon their living brethren. Skeletal archers lined the ships their bows drawn and ready to loose at a command of their lord.
King Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name, surveyed the island before him. The beach was in a sheltered cove that would protect his ships. To the east, a river wound its way from deep inland and to the west, a group of hills protruded from the ground. The hills would provide some concealment from foes, while not impeding the movement of his own forces. The river would make it difficult for most enemies to approach him.
Alkehesh turned to those gathered behind him. His son, Sehmizzar, newly awakened under the direct commands of Settra the Lord of all Kings, stood ready for his fathers will. Beside him, the Hierophant Kahamat, and his three priests, bowed as his deep, deathless stare encompassed them.
This shall be where we go ashore. From this beach shall we do battle for the glory of the First King. Here shall we demonstrate the true might of Khemri!
By the will of Settra the Imperishable, First Priest King of Khemri, and ruler of all Nehekhara, and for His glory, the forces under the banner of King Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name, trusted sword of the god-king Settra, hereby lay claim to territory three.
-- Alkehesh, the Third of His Glorious Name (a.k.a. Ash)
"And, behold, the almighty god-king Settra did awaken from his sleep of blessed oblivion. His legions, long buried beneath the sands, did arise and stand to attention, awaiting his order. And he did say 'War', and the world did tremble..."
(Ash)
A clanking, steam-powered contraption has arrived from the port of Barak Varr, landing its cargo of Dwarves in Doppelte Bucht.
[Spoiler]The Dwarven Lords and their retinue have decided to scout the mountains for any metals and precious stones to be found in this land. To help them with this endeavour the pilots of the Gyrocopters have advised to land in Area 54.
(Elo)
Strange, amphibious creatures have been sighted arriving from the west, bringing serried ranks of Lizardmen to the mouth of the Fleuve callieux.
[Spoiler]After great deliberation and a large amount of throat lozanges, the Skink Priests have interpreted Venerable Lord Kroak's subtle hints and occasional strange bubbly noises to mean that the Lizard host must land in Area 74 if there is any hope of victory!
(Syfro)
A glittering fleet of white-hulled ships have arrived from the mystical isle of Uluthan and the High Elves have set up their camp on the shores of Baai van de Vervloekte.
Let it be known that the superior armies of the Asur claim territory 46, and all the lands and incomes of this recently discovered island.
Interlopers will be punished most severely.
In the name of Finubar the Seafarer, by the grace of the Gods Phoenix King of the Inner and Outer Kingdoms, so shall it be.
Signed and witnessed on this day, the 27th of Januarius, two-thousand-nine-ius. (By ye olde Calendarius.)
(Grublord)
A ramshackle collection of privateers and commandeered merchant ships has landed on Das Schumende Ufer and deposited a large band of very hungry Ogres.
[Spoiler]Tattered empire colours fluttered from the mast of the seemingly derelict vessel, as several bulls held ropes connected to the mainsail, the yardarms, not built to withstand their weight, had long since snapped under the rough treatment of the ogres. The mast matched the rest of the ship, which had large holes knocked in various places to allow for the massive bulk of the ogres, and even the shady dockmaster who had sold the deathtrap to Tyrant Kraul and his kin would have been both shocked and amazed at the condition the ship was still sailing in.
The butcher Ognom squeezed his massive girth into what remained of the captains quarters and spoke to the tyrant in a voice stained by tar and other foul substances the butcher had ingested in an attempt to feel the will of the Maw "we're gettin' close. The maw is strong ere, you was right to bring us. There's anudder fire maw over there, what ain't been fed propper for a long time, if ever. The great maw should be well pleased with us if we feed it all the thinglings we heard was coming too." The tyrant grinned, and moved to speak when there was a bellow from above.
Jorgen, the hunter, was sitting high atop his perch in the remnants of the crows nest, his tusks paitiently waiting in the hold with the rhinoxen. none of them knew how he was able to climb up there, onr how his massive bulk had not collapsed the mast, and none had the opportunity to ask either, since he had remained there for the duration of the voyage, indeed, this was the first time he had said a thing the entire trip. "OVER THERE, that's where we need to land to start the next leg of this journey." Down below the tyrant's grin broadened. "I knew I brought him along for a reason" he muttered to the butcher. then he turned and looked up at the ceiling and bellowed "WHERE, WHAT'S IT LOOK LIKE?" "THERE" The hunter fired his harpoon in the direction he had been pointing. "NUMBER 16" Another bellow came from bellow. "ALLRIGHT, GET TO IT YOU LOT". From bellow there was a steroephonic roar as the 'tusks raced out onto the deck, purring, it was time to begin the hunt.
(Nemisii)
Below is a copy of the map as it stands at the beginning of the campaign (spoilered for width). The coloured castles represent the players' HQs and the Warhammer miniatures are their first "banners", representing the armies that will fight for control of the island.
The campaign will last 19 turns and the player with the most territories under his control at that time will be declared the winner. Special map sections (temporarily shown by yellow dots) are worth 5 territories for victory condition purposes.
I'll update this post (and the map) as the campaign progresses, adding a short description of the turns events. If any players would like to contribute more detailed, in character accounts of any glorious victories (or otherwise) please email them to me and I'll edit them into the post.
Good luck to all the participants, I'm really looking forward to seeing how this turns out and hope you all have a heap of fun.
And now, as they say in Iron Chef: "Let's get it on!"
It seems to me like someone needs to drop Elo's 4chan bullshit off the front page, and so it has fallen to me.
And what better way for me to do that than to tell you all about the dark times that are coming for humanity, and to give you the reassurances you need to not lose hope?
Now, we all know the world is ending three years from now, but that apocalypse is still too far away for humanity's most hateful arch-nemesis: the deadly, burninating hordes of Blue Laser. Luckily for us, there have always been brave heroes who may be fighting for freedom (and are each sold separately). Probably battling evil, for years they have kept us safe from the blue laser menace... but no longer!
You read correctly, my fellow NWTJites: no longer content with subliminal messages, Blue Laser has created their next cunning weapon of destruction, which is close to becoming reality! Thanks to lavish bribes to the foolish so-called scientists at our unwitting campuses of higher learning, research is in progress to fashion blue laser light into a powerful hypno-ray to turn you and yours into the mindless pawns of the Establishment.
Coupled with evolving scientific research into the creation and domestication of undead zombies, it's clear to see that there is a silent coup in the works, and we can trust no-one. The future may very well consist of tightly packed cities of the Living Dead, controlled from a central location by blue laser light. Ask yourself, do you trust the government with such power? When the forces of supervillainy raise their ugly heads to subjugate Earth, who shall stand? Who CAN stand against such terrible power?
Even if the government is on our side, they simply haven't got the resources to fight against this menace: with the world's most militarily advanced nation already busy fighting a War on Drugs, a War on Terror, a War on Porn, and a variety of other wars to boot, it's ridiculous to expect them to be able to help you against such a truly diabolical enemy... or to expect their secretly corrupt, untrustworthy mass-media to tell you the horrible truth!
If you're not of prime crime-fighting potency, don't have a latter-day superpower, and are unwilling to experiment with radioactivity, there is still hope, however. Escape into another world may be possible, provided that you can sufficiently deaden your brainwaves to resist the mind-control beams and convincingly masquerade as one of the living dead when they come for you. Some of us have more practice at this than others, but I trust that all of NWTJ will band together when the end comes.
Beyond that, of course, there is the spiritual option: as we know from TV, no amount of dread mind-control power can compete with the mental and psychic strength of a true believer, and those anointed by God need not fear the undead. There has never been a better time to let Jesus into your life, and there has never been a more effective medium for achieving such enlightenment than Lego. Go and learn from the Gospel, my children, and ye shall be saved!
Understandably, not all of us consider escape into MMORPGs a preferable alternative to life as a laser-zombie, however, and not everyone can unthinkingly buy in to the kind of crazy ass bullshit associated with Christianity. Oh ye of little faith! Fear not, for you can still be saved: all you need is exposure to a simpler, more internally consistent religion and you too can be repelling mind-control beams and pronouncing grim judgement upon the undead with the most Holy.
One such religion of power and convenience is Factology, also known as "Nuwaubu". It may be a little difficult to get in initially, but it's well worth the time you save overall. It's not blasphemy to want to save a bit of time when the fate of the world is at stake, is it? Of course not! It's a fact that when you're having trouble with blind acceptance, it is best to limit the amount of obscure tenets that you have to recall and convince yourself of. So here's the good news: Nuwaubianism is so easy, anyone can play! If you can make yourself believe that black people used to be green and that our planet is hollow and inhabited on the inside by "underground people", you're as good as a Nuwaubian priest. Faithfully accept that a meteor crashing into the Earth changed the human race into what it is today, that everyone has 7 clones, and that humans are the product of Martian cloning experiments, and you might as well be an apostle. Now grab a shotgun, bless some water, and get ready for the hard part.
A qüîck üpdaŧe for ŧhose wonderîng how mÿ Chaos hordes were doîng down here în Mehîco.
I had hoped ŧo fînd a coüpŀe of oŧher peopŀe ŧo pŀaÿ WH wîŧh în mÿ home ŧown, sînce ŧhere was a reasonabŀe sîżed cŀüb în Wagga Wagga (whîch has a sîmîŀar popüŀaŧîon). Unforŧünaŧeŀÿ I've onŀÿ managed ŧo fînd 1! oŧher person who pŀaÿs WH and ŀîves near me. Thîs îs probabŀÿ düe ŧo ŧhe proxîmîŧÿ of ŀarger ŧowns nearbÿ, îe Baŀŀaraŧ and Meŀboürne, and aŀso becaüse of socîo-economîc facŧors (wesŧern sübürbs ÿo!). I've been aŀong ŧo a coüpŀe of gamîng cŀübs în boŧh of ŧhe aforemenŧîoned cîŧîes büŧ have had a specŧacüŀar ŀack of süccess în pŀaÿîng anÿ WFB games. (I've onŀÿ managed ŧo pŀaÿ one, whîch I ŀosŧ, freakîn' dancîng Wood Eŀves!)
Sînce everÿone eŀse seems ŧo be pŀaÿîng 40K aŧ ŧhe momenŧ I fîgüre ŧhaŧ I had beŧŧer sŧop beîng so precîoüs aboüŧ WFB and dîg oüŧ mÿ Tÿranîds agaîn. Raŧher ŧhan aŧŧempŧîng ŧo vaînŀÿ müddŀe mÿ waÿ ŧhroügh wîŧhoüŧ knowîng ŧhe rüŀes of ŧhe new edîŧîon (5ŧh) I organîsed mÿseŀf a copÿ of ŧhe rüŀe book earŀîer ŧhîs week. Havîng waded ŧhroügh a ŀoŧ of ŧhe rüŀes and skîmmed ŧhe resŧ I ŧhoüghŧ I'd share mÿ ŧhoüghŧs wîŧh anÿ ŊWTJîŧe who mîghŧ be înŧeresŧed:
Ŧhe big häŗdcőveŗ ŗulebőők is veŗy well pŗeseñted tő äppeäl tő ñew pläyeŗs, it lőőks like the kiñd őf thiñg thät sőmeőñe ñew tő the hőbby cőuld ŗeäd by themselves äñd pŗetty much get the gist őf the hőbby. It häs ŗeälly bäsic iñtŗőductőŗy bits expläiñiñg stäts, bättle ŗepőŗts äñd ső őñ. PŠ. I bőught the big ŗulebőők ŗätheŗ thäñ the pőcket-sized őñe cős I like the fluff äñd pŗetty pictuŗes, őf which theŗe äŗe quite ä few iñcludiñg äwesőme dőuble päge spŗeäds őf Cőmőŗŗägh äñd Cŗäftwőŗld Iyäñdeñ.
Overaŀŀ ŧhe rüŀes seem ŧo have been sŧreamŀîned somewhaŧ, and Tÿranîds seem ŧo faîr preŧŧÿ weŀŀ.
Targét priority is goné, so no moré distraçting Ŀd10 Néçrons from thé onçoming Généstéalérs with a çaréfully plaçéd Sporé Miné. Howévér intérvéning modéls (énémy or friéndly) givé a 4+ çovér savé, whiçh is gréat, éspéçially for Ŀiçtors hiding béhind othér Tyranids, 2+ çovér savé FTW!
Eveŗyőñe cäñ ŗuñ D6" iñsteäd őf shőőtiñg, but őñly fleet uñits cäñ ässäult äfteŗ this mőve. Miñimäl impäct főŗ Ŧyŗäñids, but it helps ässäult Cäŗñifexes (like miñe) tő get tő the täŗget äñd mäy ällőw Lictőŗs tő ŗedeplőy ä bit iñ the tuŗñ they äŗŗive.
Bŀasŧ weapons no ŀonger roŀŀ ŧo hîŧ as üsüaŀ, însŧead ÿoü pŀace ŧhe bŀasŧ marker and scaŧŧer 2D6-BS". Thîs îs brîŀŀîanŧ for me as I goŧ qüîŧe sîck of shooŧîng güns wîŧh BS3 ŧhaŧ onŀÿ ever pŀaced ŧheîr ŧempŀaŧe of 2+ deaŧh 50% of ŧhe ŧîme, aŧ ŀeasŧ ŧhîs waÿ I've aŀwaÿs goŧ a chance of hîŧŧîng someŧhîng. Parŧîaŀ hîŧs from bŀasŧs have aŀso been removed, heŀpîng Spore Mînes aŀong ŧoo.
Assaults havé béén stréamilinéd a bit and madé moré déadly, assaultéd units pilé in béforé thé fighting starts for gréatér çarnagé and çasualty rémoval is similar to WFB, ié you béat up on thé guys in front of you but çasualtiés çan bé takén from thé baçk. Thankfully this rémovés thé possibility of gétting an awésomé CC unit (liké Généstéalérs) into çlosé çombat, kiling évéryoné within réaçh and thén going "WTF? Am I still in çombat?" as happénéd to mé in thé last édition. Đisappointingly çombat rés is baséd éntirély on wounds çauséd, so outnumbéring péoplé by 4:1 doésn't do squit any moré.
Reñdiñg gőt ñeŗfed siñce it gőt häñded őut tő mőŗe äñd mőŗe Cődexes iñ the läst editiőñ (ñőtäble cäses beiñg the Špäce Mäŗiñe Assäult Cäññőñ [îe Lîcŧor Gün] and Slaanésh Đaémonéttés). It now instagibs on a 6 to wound, rathér than to hit and only adds Đ3 éxtra véhiçlé pénétration. I'll prédiçt now that Féél No Pain will bé thé Ůnivérsal Spéçial Rulé to bé nérféd in 6th éd. It givés an éxtra 4+ savé against wounds that arén't çauséd by powér wéapons or Instant Đéath and sééms to bé in évéry néw Codéx that çomés out (uséd to only bé on Khorné Bézérkérs, now Ørk Nobs on Bikés çan gét it, as çan Impérial Guard Command Squads with médiçs).
Killiñg vehicles häs chäñged sőmewhät, theŗe is őñly 1 dämäge täble ñőw, with ä -2 mődifieŗ főŗ gläñciñg hits. Rämmiñg häs beeñ ŗeiñtŗőduced(?) which wőuld be fuñ, but I dőñ't häve äñy vehicles. Ŧhäñkfully killiñg vehicles häs gőtteñ eäsieŗ iñ ässäults äs yőu älwäys hit the ŗeäŗ äŗmőuŗ (usuälly AV10)!
Scenarîos have been revamped, însŧead of 5 sŧandard scenarîos ŧhere are 3 depŀoÿmenŧ maps and 3 mîssîons, gîvîng a cŀever 9 combînaŧîons. Onŀÿ Troops can hoŀd objecŧîves whîch ŀeads ŧo haŧe shown for ŀîsŧs wîŧh Troop-spam?! Unforŧünaŧeŀÿ one of ŧhe mîssîons, Annîhîŀaŧîon, îs ŧoo sîmpŀîfîed ŧo be faîr. To save spoŧŧÿ ŧeenage boÿs ŧhe ŧroübŀe of addîng üp Vîcŧorÿ Poînŧs, însŧead each ünîŧ/vehîcŀe/characŧer îs worŧh 1 Kîŀŀ Poînŧ, mosŧ Kîŀŀ Poînŧs scored îs ŧhe wînner. There's a bîŧ of a probŀem here as ÿoü pŀaÿ games accordîng ŧo a seŧ vaŀües of poînŧs (and hence VPs) raŧher ŧhan eqüaŀ Kîŀŀ Poînŧs. Consîderîng ŧhaŧ boŧh a sîngŀe Spore Mîne, worŧh <10pts that blows up intentionally when you touch it, and a Necron Monolith, which is >200pts of living-métal, sélf-répairing, çovéréd-in-guns, Néçron-téléporting, you-çan't-kill-mé goodnéss, aré both worth éxaçtly 1 Kill Point I think you'll agréé that théy might'vé simplifiéd this oné a tad too muçh.
This month is May Mission Month at my Church. The church decides on a number of worthy humanitarian causes around the world to support.
One of these causes is helping poor people in Cambodia who have been illegally displaced from their homes in Phnom Penh. Basically wealthy private interests want to develop on land in the city so they get their corrupt mates in government to bulldoze the homes of poor people. These people are then dumped outside the city to fend for themselves. This is a gross injustice!
As you can imagine its very hard for these people to adapt to their new situation, living in a slum far on the outskirts of the city. The Smiles in the Slum project that my church is supporting this month is raising money to care for the children that have been evicted. They will be supervised, fed and educated during the day while their parents go to and from the city for work.
I am supporting this project through the "[Bike] Ride against Poverty" with other men from Gymea Baptist Church this Sunday. If you would like to sponsor me in this endeavour then you can either drop round to my place with your donation no later than Saturday, make a transfer to my bank account (details via email for those interested), or I'll take an IOU. Alternatively you could give directly to the project through the link below.
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