ZERGRUSH!!!!!!
May. 20th, 2007 01:05 amStarcraft 2!
http://pc.gamespy.com/pc/starcraft-2/790163p1.html
In other news: All activity in South Korea grounds to a complete halt.
My "Arrest" at work
May. 17th, 2007 10:01 pmOne needs not worry, I was not truly arrested at work today. I participated in an MDA charity drive in which the fundraisers are "arrested" at their workplace, driven to a place to raise money, and then returned in a limo. Overall it was a nice experience, but I didn't raise much because I'm still the only guy on earth without a cellphone. The kids seemed to be amused by me being taken out of the school in handcuffs, and the limo ride was pretty cool. I've definately got to get me one of those.
I don't post much. I'll try to fix that. I have very, very, very little time.
Knowing is half the battle
Apr. 5th, 2007 11:23 pmI'm going to dispel a myth. It's about history, so skip this post.
Imagine the Medieval Knight. Most people see him as the pinnacle of warfare in the middle ages. He charges forward, mounted on his barded steed, thundering towards the enemy. He's the unstoppable juggernaut, the "middle ages version of a tank" as one of my high school teachers told me. He's invincible, his charge is unstoppable, he is the king of the medieval battlefield. Only the development of gunpowder weapons neutralized his absolute, complete dominance.
Everything above is a lie. It's a myth as bad as the three winged red German triplanes filling the sky in Flyboys.
Now, I will admit that this myth has a lot of reasons for existing, even a lot of historical reasons. The strange thing about this myth is that even the military commanders of the middle ages believed it, and they were living in the time, seeing it with their own eyes. The myth of the dominace of the Knight was something that the nobility of the Medieval period liked to perpetuate. Showing the Knight victorious against all odds made the nobility look good. It put fear into the pesantry and assured the nobles their spot in the history books. It wasn't like there were news reporters on battlefields to question anything that the nobles said. The people of the middle ages showed the Knight carrying the day in their art, in their stories, in their plays. It's little wonder that modern society, even many of our schoolteachers, thinks that the Knight featured so prominently in Medieval warfare.
The truth of the matter is, the mounted Knight was an albatross around the necks of most military commanders in the middle ages. They were used, improperly, over and over again, and failed to make much of an impact, if any, on the major military engagements of the medieval period. The unsung heroes of the Medieval period were the infantry. Lowborn grunts in armor, armed with milita weapons or bows were the true kings of the Medieval battlefield. The commander that properly used infantry usually was the one that won. Commanders that were smart enough to combine solid infantry with skirmishing light cavalry with bows (Read Arabs, Mongols and Turks) were even more deadly. The medieval mounted Knight usually stood no chance against proper infantry as long as the infantry were steady enough to hold their ground and receive the initial charge. The mounted Knight failed early and often. At Hastings William's Knights bounced off the Saxon shield wall until Norman archery finally managed to break it up. At Hattin King Guy's grand Knightly charge came to nothing as Saladin's light cavalry simply moved out of the way. At Legano Fredrick of Barbarosa's grand frontal charge met with determined Milanese light infantry who held their ground and crushed the German advance. At Leignitz the Hungarian/Crusader Cavalry charged into a Mongol army that quickly dispersed before the Knights could make contact, and then butchered them in attacks on the flanks. At Pepius the Teutonic Order was massacred when they charged twice their number in Russian Serf infantry. At Crecy the French beat their heads against Edward III's dismounted Men at Arms and Longbowmen for hours, with no success at all. Tannenberg, Nicopolis, Stirling Bridge, Potiers, the list literally goes on and on. Mounted knights had proved so ineffective, especilly after the travesty of the Knightly Charge into the Jannisaries at Nicopolis, that by the late 1300's Knights were fighting in the only way they'd truly proven themselves effective, on foot. In fact, the only great, sucessful Knightly charge that was sucessful in the great battles of the Middle ages came when Richard the Lionheart charged Saladin at Arsuf. Even then, Richard had held his Knights in reserve for hours, forcing them to stay shielded by a giant box formation of infantrymen. You wouldn't know this by the art from the period, that only depicts the Knightly charge, not the fact that it only was able to be delivered because of a magnificent feat of feints and combined arms.
The Knight was a great weapon of war in the medieval world. However, he wasn't the dominant force we all think we know. When employed mounted with extensive support by infantry and archery, or when employed dismounted as heavy infantry, the Knight was very effective. The Knight as a rolling juggernaut that bowled over all in his path like they were harvested wheat, he simply wasn't around.
I have no idea why I posted this.
Midnight in the Garden of Insane Drivers
Mar. 23rd, 2007 12:27 am Back from Savannah, and home for all of a few hours before departing again for the Battle of Bridgeport. It's going to be a rough couple of days, but I can make it. For a good rundown of the details of our Savannah trip, check Deborah's livejournal. My observations as always are far less verbose. Here are my observations in a nutshell...
Savannah drivers are fucking insane. I'm not just talking tourists here folks, I'm talking the people from Savannah. Batshit crazy. I've been around, and I've seen cities with crazy drivers (Detroit comes to mind) and I don't think I've ever seen quite the reckless disregard for the rules of traffic as I saw in Savannah. Posted speed limits should be about 80 in the residential sections, cause that's what people were driving.
Downtown Savannah is not as interesting as it is in the book Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. I knew this beforehand, since I went to Savannah before the book was written. It's always been very pretty, and it is still. The only difference is that the city is now pretty and filled with gawking tourists with cameras taking pictures of everything. When we read the novel in Contemperary American Novel class in college, good old Dr. Billingslea said it best. The book wasn't as much an actual depiction of Savannah, it was the author's idealized image of the city. We saw the city through his eyes, a New York journalist with a romanticized view of the south and with money to spend who got on the inside of a very select community. Savannah is NOT that book. It's still cool, it's still a nice place to visit, but if you're expecting to get hit on by cross dressers and have a black tie party and muder mystery in antebellum homes, please go somewhere else.
Tybee Island was great. Even though it had flat compact Atlantic side sand, it was still a nice place to just sit, watch the ocean and eat at only slightly overpriced restraunts. Still, what the hell is with the "No Raw Oysters" rule? I'll sign a fucking waiver if I have to, just feed me the oysters cold, raw and on the halfshell.
I made Deborah shop at Piggly Wiggly!! She refused to go at first, but I was totally driving the car. Karen, Deborah took a really fun picture for you there.
Fort Pulaski and the Mighty Eigth Museum, also cool. Fort Pulaski was really nicely maintained and provided for great pictures. I felt kinda funny when we watched the Musket demonstration though. I do stuff every other weekend and it made me feel kinda funny to be a spectator and not a member of the event. Still, really cool.
Anyway, I guess that's it for me. I enjoyed the vacation, loved my time with Deborah away from it all, and am now trying to get prepared for another three hours on the road with only one nights rest. Hopefully my car will hold up to the drive to distant Bridgeport and back. I'll have to go one more event without my Sharps since my mainspring issues are STILL not resolved. Grah mechanical problems. So, yeah, now off to bed. If you want to see pictures of the vacation check
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fireriven
There's only one Ray
Mar. 17th, 2007 10:54 pm
Wilford "Crazy Ray" Jones died this morning at the age of 75. Never was there a truer and more devoted fan of the Dallas Cowboys. As far as I'm concerned he's the true mascot of Dallas (Forget Rowdy). Ray was a fixture in Dallas for 44 years, always there for the fans and the kids, ready to entertain. I remember fondly when I celebrated by 6th birthday with a magical trip to the sidelines in Texas Stadium. I don't remember any of the players that day (except vaguely Danny White) or any of the coaches. The one memory I have was Crazy Ray, picking me up and giving me a hug, and presenting me with the Atary 2600 game "Chopper Command", wishing me a happy birthday. It was one of the coolest moments of my childhood. I doubt I'm the only kid that grew up around the Cowboys that can say that.
You'll be missed Ray.
Edit: I was sitting here trying to remember things back in 1983, and I kept wondering why I was remembering getting the gift for Ray for my birthday when my birthday is obviously not during football season. Now that I think back, I remember that it was my step-sister Laura Shipman's birthday (The daughter of my real father's second wife). I don't quite remember why it was that I got the gift, but I remember that she and her brother Matt were with me. This was when I was on visitation with my Biological Father, and we'd almost been banned from going to the game because Matt and Laura had convinced me to run through sprinklers that were going off in my father's front yard. Fortunately begging was sucessful in averting that disaster. Anyway, I just thought that was interesting.
Update on the update
Mar. 15th, 2007 04:23 pmApparently Dad's out of ICU and in a room of his own now. They've got him doped up on morphene and he's already giving the nurses shit. They're still going to watch him for a few days but he's recovering very well and should be fine. The anuerysm itself was the size of a couple of softballs and was likely the cause of the back pain he's been having for a while. He's very lucky to be alive.
Almost out of the woods on this one.
Almost out of the woods on this one.
Dad's out of surgery, last report is that it went well. They were supposed to move him down to the ICU about 20 minutes ago, still hadn't made it but that's not anything to be worried about. He apparently has known that he would require this surgery for a lot longer than he let on, and apparently this was a lot more major than he told me last night. Stuff about veins having to be rebuilt and restructured. Carol wasn't really clear on the matter and she of course hadn't called me to let me know anything. Anyway, I'll take the fact that the Doc said he went through the surgery really well as good news and will keep things updated as they go along.
Belated Birthday Bedazzlement
Mar. 12th, 2007 08:20 pmSo, yeah, I turned 30 last week. I guess this is supposed to be a big milestone where you put your life in perspective and see where you are in the grand scheme of things. You're supposed to be well into the start of your real life by 30, or at least that's what the general perception in society says. If this is the case, then I'm not too tremendously disapppointed with my life. I'm in the career I want to be in, and progressing in it the way I wish. I've got a fantastic girlfriend. I've got good hobbies and good friends. I have a cat. Things could be worse honestly. So, yeah, no problem with 30. I just wish I'd made my first million by now.
Festivities were held last Friday with a great turnout by my dear friends. Lots of nice presents and well wishings. Only downside was when Ling was denied his dinner by the Olive Garden staff and no one even bothered to give him an apology. Fuck you Olive Garden. If they had any balls whatsoever a manager should've been to the table in a flash giving out free meals and offereing to perform the three cuts. Their shitty service has ensured that there will be no more birthdays at that establishment.
On my birthday I worked 9 hours at Circuit City. Yay.
:ast Monday, Dad made his way down from Florence to have lunch with Deborah and I. Clearly, that was a great event since Dad hasn't visited in forever. He gave me a new book, a grooming kit and a Civil War era sword. The sword was a nice gesture, but not great for a reenactor like myself. Sadly, it's an infantry officer's sword and I'm a Cavalry enlisted man. Not much I can do with it but display it. Very cool though.
Tuesday was the nicest day of the bunch though. Deborah and I had put off a more intimate celebration of my birthday till then due to the very limited time we had available. She had arranged a day that really made me feel incredibly special and was fantasticly crafted. She surprised me with a trip to the ever expensive but very cool Carrabas , where I was given the gift of Borat, a special edition of the movie Patton (one of my faves) and another very nice gift that was more or less for just us. It was a magnificent evening beyond all comprehension and one of the best birthdays ever. All thanks to Deborah.
Anyway, that was how it all went down. As I say, I'm at ease with 30 years of my life being done. It just all went so fucking fast. I hope the next 30 will pass a bit slower. Damned time.
Festivities were held last Friday with a great turnout by my dear friends. Lots of nice presents and well wishings. Only downside was when Ling was denied his dinner by the Olive Garden staff and no one even bothered to give him an apology. Fuck you Olive Garden. If they had any balls whatsoever a manager should've been to the table in a flash giving out free meals and offereing to perform the three cuts. Their shitty service has ensured that there will be no more birthdays at that establishment.
On my birthday I worked 9 hours at Circuit City. Yay.
:ast Monday, Dad made his way down from Florence to have lunch with Deborah and I. Clearly, that was a great event since Dad hasn't visited in forever. He gave me a new book, a grooming kit and a Civil War era sword. The sword was a nice gesture, but not great for a reenactor like myself. Sadly, it's an infantry officer's sword and I'm a Cavalry enlisted man. Not much I can do with it but display it. Very cool though.
Tuesday was the nicest day of the bunch though. Deborah and I had put off a more intimate celebration of my birthday till then due to the very limited time we had available. She had arranged a day that really made me feel incredibly special and was fantasticly crafted. She surprised me with a trip to the ever expensive but very cool Carrabas , where I was given the gift of Borat, a special edition of the movie Patton (one of my faves) and another very nice gift that was more or less for just us. It was a magnificent evening beyond all comprehension and one of the best birthdays ever. All thanks to Deborah.
Anyway, that was how it all went down. As I say, I'm at ease with 30 years of my life being done. It just all went so fucking fast. I hope the next 30 will pass a bit slower. Damned time.
Borat at Baker's Farm
Mar. 6th, 2007 09:18 pmSo I'm watching the new Borat DVD's deleted scenes. One of the scenes involved Borat involved in a Civil War reenactment, shockingly enough in Alabama. When I got a good look at the scene, I realized that Borat was at fucking Baker's Farm. Baker's Farm is an event that I have gone to, and an event my unit attends. On further review I saw at least two members of my unit involved in the action with Borat, which of course amuses me to no end. I checked the unit's photojournal and found that there was supposedly a "Documentary" being filmed at Baker's Farm in 2005. Lo and behold, there are pictures of Borat plain as day.
Wow....this is amusing me to no end. I'm not sure how amused my reenactor friends will be, but I absolutely must tell them. Too bad I wasn't there. I'd have ruined the entire thing though.
Edit: The response from my CO about wether or not he remembered the "documentary" was the following:
"Yeah, I remember him and his crew quite well. In fact he came up to me and tried to piss me off, but it didn't work. I played his little game until he got tired of it. He asked me after the battle "where are you going now?" I kept telling him, "I don't know about you, but I'm going to Disney World!" I don't think that was the response he was looking for. "
Unfortunately that didn't make the final cut.
Well, another Single Person's Awareness Day in the past.
I was reminded today of a thought in 2003 in which I said that Valentine's Day was a silly holiday and if we loved someone, we should treat every day as Valentine's Day, not just Feb 14. Well, I still feel that way. That said, having a day where I got to buy some flowers and candy and such for my Girlfriend was sort of fun, even if I do realize that this day still makes a lot of single people remember, very prominently, that they are in fact single. I'm pretty sure my downstairs neighbor was drinking some heavy alcohol tonight and listening to Emo music.
That said, I will take a moment to say that I greatly appreciate my Girlfriend. She's been tremendously understanding of my faults and foibles, and she's somehow stuck it out even when I didn't correct a lot of my hardcore bachleorness as quickly as she'd have liked. Still, I like to think I appreciate her every day, and I think so far I've taken the time to show it. I'm happy with how things have gone and I'm happy with how she manages to make me feel special every day of the week, not just today.
Anyway, that's enough about Valentine's Day.
The day overall was pretty eventuful, romance notwithstanding. After a long day of classes I was greeted with one of our students being attacked by another in my next door classroom. I was actually sitting there as the classes exited the building at the end of the day. I was relaxing, glad the day was over, as kids were passing throug my room going toward the exit. I was then shocked when one of our students didn't get very far through my door before someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him violently back into the Science classroom. I of course quickly rose to investigate what had happened, strangely confused about the entire thing. I guess my mind just didn't put two and two together. What I found in the Science room was quite disconcerting. The attacking student had pinned the victim to the ground and was pounding on said victim with both fists. I noticed that the attacker was, quite unfortunately, one of the largest and strongest students at the school. He was in fact the one student I really hoped I'd never have to break up in a fight. Despite the identity of the attacker, I had little choice but to try to intervene. I interjected myself quickly into the altercation and grabbed the attacking student from behind, using my wieght to yank him back and hurl him into the wall behind me. I then charged into the attacker, pinning his body against the wall and refrigerator, laying my shoulder into his chest and planting my feet. The attacker was dead set on getting to his victim, but I managed to keep him firmly pinned with determination and a good dose of adrenelaine. Hooray for hormones. The poor victim stood, dumbfounded, unware as to why he'd been attacked. I had to tell him to get the hell out of the room so the boy that was trying to attack him would quit trying to hurl me aside. When the victim finally left, the attacker calmed down. I later learned that the victim had made some sort of joke about the attacker's "sister". Yeah, great reason for a fight. The Attacker was actually a good kid, one of the better ones we have. Sad if we have to expel him, especially since that'll lead to a bad home life for him and his abusive father.
Think our Math teacher will bail over the fight. One thing about being a teacher. You have to endure days like this and be able to walk out the door with it rolling off your back. I don't think the Math teacher is capable of doing that.
Oh well.
I was reminded today of a thought in 2003 in which I said that Valentine's Day was a silly holiday and if we loved someone, we should treat every day as Valentine's Day, not just Feb 14. Well, I still feel that way. That said, having a day where I got to buy some flowers and candy and such for my Girlfriend was sort of fun, even if I do realize that this day still makes a lot of single people remember, very prominently, that they are in fact single. I'm pretty sure my downstairs neighbor was drinking some heavy alcohol tonight and listening to Emo music.
That said, I will take a moment to say that I greatly appreciate my Girlfriend. She's been tremendously understanding of my faults and foibles, and she's somehow stuck it out even when I didn't correct a lot of my hardcore bachleorness as quickly as she'd have liked. Still, I like to think I appreciate her every day, and I think so far I've taken the time to show it. I'm happy with how things have gone and I'm happy with how she manages to make me feel special every day of the week, not just today.
Anyway, that's enough about Valentine's Day.
The day overall was pretty eventuful, romance notwithstanding. After a long day of classes I was greeted with one of our students being attacked by another in my next door classroom. I was actually sitting there as the classes exited the building at the end of the day. I was relaxing, glad the day was over, as kids were passing throug my room going toward the exit. I was then shocked when one of our students didn't get very far through my door before someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him violently back into the Science classroom. I of course quickly rose to investigate what had happened, strangely confused about the entire thing. I guess my mind just didn't put two and two together. What I found in the Science room was quite disconcerting. The attacking student had pinned the victim to the ground and was pounding on said victim with both fists. I noticed that the attacker was, quite unfortunately, one of the largest and strongest students at the school. He was in fact the one student I really hoped I'd never have to break up in a fight. Despite the identity of the attacker, I had little choice but to try to intervene. I interjected myself quickly into the altercation and grabbed the attacking student from behind, using my wieght to yank him back and hurl him into the wall behind me. I then charged into the attacker, pinning his body against the wall and refrigerator, laying my shoulder into his chest and planting my feet. The attacker was dead set on getting to his victim, but I managed to keep him firmly pinned with determination and a good dose of adrenelaine. Hooray for hormones. The poor victim stood, dumbfounded, unware as to why he'd been attacked. I had to tell him to get the hell out of the room so the boy that was trying to attack him would quit trying to hurl me aside. When the victim finally left, the attacker calmed down. I later learned that the victim had made some sort of joke about the attacker's "sister". Yeah, great reason for a fight. The Attacker was actually a good kid, one of the better ones we have. Sad if we have to expel him, especially since that'll lead to a bad home life for him and his abusive father.
Think our Math teacher will bail over the fight. One thing about being a teacher. You have to endure days like this and be able to walk out the door with it rolling off your back. I don't think the Math teacher is capable of doing that.
Oh well.
Long live the coach
Feb. 9th, 2007 10:01 pm
Ladies and gentleman, the coach of the Dallas Cowboys, Wade Phillips.
Boy I hope this is the right choice. Should be fine as long as we're not leading Tennessee with couple of seconds left to go.
40k Meets Harry Potter
Jan. 3rd, 2007 10:54 pmTo; Lord-Inquisitor Von Grimm, Ordo Hereticus
From; Inquisitor Bigotin, Ordo Hereticus
Subject; Inquisitorial Purge BD-4992 "The Hogwarts Purge"
Transmitted; Inquisitorial Fortress, Bethor VIII
Transmitter; Astropath Ginla
Receiver; Astropath Wulesh
Salutations Lord!
I am pleased to report that the heretical witch-coven, the blasphemous sect known as "Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft" has been eliminated, and every member of this vile cult has been cleansed with fire and sword.
Accompanied by five squads of veteran Inquisitorial Stormtroopers, two-hundred local militia, a dozen arco-flagellants, two Penitent Engines, and three squads drawn from the Order of the Holy Nimbus, we began our assault upon the fortress of the enemy at dawn's first light. Although the castle was hidden from normal sight by a myriad of hexes and foul enchantments, these wards were easily bypassed thanks to the psyk-out strike launched by the Persecution, and we were able to begin the assault.
We stormed the grounds, suffering only minor casualties from various self-defence spell-traps that the enemy had placed within the grounds. These traps were disposed of quickly by my cadre of sanctioned psykers, and we able to press on.
We were soon accosted by a heavily-haired mutant of exceptional height and bulk (see pict attachments 00-03) upon approaching the castle's main portcullis. He was accompanied by a variety of abominable creatures (pict attachments 04-16), gruesome beasts which looked like twisted parodies of ancient creatures of legend- such beasts included a disturbing horse/eagle hybrid and assorted scorpion/crab-like creatures, each one the size of a small landcar, amongst others. The large mutant challenged us in an accent I did not recognise, but no doubt it was speaking in some daemonic tongue. I ordered the attack. The creatures of the mutant beastmaster took a heavy toll on the local militia and my Stormtroopers, but our numbers and weaponry were superior, and the Sisters of the Holy Nimbus swiftly brought down the creatures with bolter, melta and flamer fire. The giant mutant beastmaster possessed incredible strength and endurance, and managed to inflict crippling damage on one of the Penitent Engines and kill and seriously wound twenty-three militia, Sisters and Stormtroopers before it was brought down by the holy rage of the arco-flagellants (three of which perished due to lethal combat stimm overdose- in death, they have been granted His Forgiveness).
We consolidated our position and set up a strong foothold whilst our chirurgeons and Sisters Hospitaller provided healing for the wounded and mercy for the dying.
To the south, I glimpsed an oval structure that appeared to resemble a standard Imperial amphitheatre or coliseum (pict attachments 17-20). Six tall poles, topped with huge hoops, were situated on this "pitch", three at each end. I theorised that the cult held some form of diabolical rituals or ceremonies there, and that the hoops were utilised in these.
No sooner had our wounded been comforted and aided by our medical staff, the witches of the Hogwarts School appeared. I was at first shocked at the average age of our foe; the youngest seemed to be ten years of standard, the oldest no more than seventeen. They were led by five older psykers (see accompanying pict-files 21-25), and they outnumbered us nearly two to one. At first, I foolishly thought that fighting children would be no challenge, but I chastised myself, remembering that each of these younglings was an illegal psyker, taught by their council of the older rogue psykers.
The eldest of the rogue psykers (pict 21), whom I presumed to be the leader, stepped forward, and I saw the malevolence and hatred in his eyes that spoke of a man driven insane by the daemonic power which he wielded. He personally addressed me, giving his name as Albus Dumbledore, but I did not wish to bandy words with a heretic and a witch, so before he could speak any further and bewitch me, I disposed of him with my stake crossbow and gave the order for my force to attack.
Pandemonium erupted immediately. The younger psykers were herded back into the castle by two of the "teachers"; a wrinkled midget (pict/subject 24) and a portly woman bedecked with scraps of local flora (pict/subject 25). The older children retaliated, led by the other two psykers, a crone-faced woman (pict/subject 22) and a cadaverous man with long black greasy hair (pict/subject 23).
The psykers launched a variety of psychic attacks that killed and/or otherwise incapicitated my warriors. I saw some terrible things. Two Stormtroopers stumbled and fell to the ground, as if their limbs had ceased to function. Sister-Palatine Lucresia was transmuted in a second from a proud warrior of the Adepta Sororitas to a pewter goblet. Local militia either burst into laughter so violent that their blood vessels burst, or were inflated like carnival balloons. Arco-flagellants slipped and collapsed as the ground beneath them was turned to ice. I remained unscathed, thanks to the protection offered by my hexagrammic wards and my accompanying sanctioned and penitent psykers.
I rallied my troops and pressed the attack. Many of the child psykers were slain by the accurate firepower of my Stormtroopers and the Sisters, and they fled in craven dissarray, only to be picked off at the leisure of my warriors and I. Subject 23 was bisected by Sister Superior Paminda's eviscerator, whilst Subject 22 met the Emperor's Judgement at the claws of the Penitent Engine.
We advanced into the castle, gunning down resistance where we found it. Subjects 24 and 25 were killed as they defended the younger heretics, many of whom surrendered after the deaths of their "teachers". I tasked Stormtrooper Lieutenant Virone with prisoner detail, and he and his squad set about dealing with the captured children, taking them to the evac zone and transferring them to the null-cells aboard the Persecution, where they would await interrogation and execution.
We finally came across the last point of resistance in the great hall of the castle, a room so seeped in obscene witchery that I permitted only the Sisters and my personal staff to accompany me inside- I could not risk the corruption of the Stormtroopers.
At the end of the hall stood four figures (picts 26-29), all of them young psykers. Three of the psykers were male, and one was female. They began a last-ditch defence, but their efforts were in vain. The blonde, arrogant-looking male (pict/subject 27) was reduced to ashes by my gun-servitor's plasma cannon, and the freckled, red-haired male (pict/subject 2 took a trio of bolter shots to the chest. The female, a young girl with long, curly brown hair (pict/subject 26) surrendered to us, and I immediately placed an inhibitor upon her (I have since transferred Subject 26 to my own staff, where she now serves as a penitent psyker).
The final male, a boy with thick black hair, spectacles, and a curious scar on his forehead (pict/subject 29) was monstrously powerful for one so young, and claimed the lives of four Sisters, my two gun-servitors, and Interrogator Delaun before he was stopped. As Interrogator Tesze held him in the jaws of her mancatcher, I prepared my power stake for the killing strike. Subject 29 looked at me frantically and cried out; "You idiot muggle! If you kill me, Voldemort will return!"
I presumed that "muggle" was some sort of profane cult slang. I had no idea who "Voldemort" was/is, but I assume that the witch's babble was a desperate and useless plea to prevent me from dispensing justice. I paid his rambling no heed, and impaled his heart with my sacred power stake.
Our mission a success, we ransacked the castle for any heretical items that would need to be immediately destroyed to prevent them from corrupting the servants of the Emperor any longer. We found all manner of wands, ingredients, spellbooks and scrolls, and curious orb-shaped relics (picts 30-32; note the curious wings that adorn the tiny golden ball in pict 32). All was put to the cleansing flame.
Upon our return to the Persecution, I gave the order for Captain Yevonce to begin the orbital bombardment of the castle, completely obliterating the vile structure. As we made warp transition to Bethor VIII, I and my staff began the interrogation of the young witches.
My apologies for the lack of transcripts at this current moment, but I regret to announce that both my scribe-skull and auto-savant are both out of ink and parchment, and Interrogator Tesze has been forced to transcribe the interrogations from the various vox-thief recordings. The transcripts will be with you shortly, my Lord.
The stain of the Hogwarts coven has been wiped from the Emperor's glorious realm.
Your Servant,
Inquisitor Predujis Bigotin
You've probably read that before. I just thought it was funny.
From; Inquisitor Bigotin, Ordo Hereticus
Subject; Inquisitorial Purge BD-4992 "The Hogwarts Purge"
Transmitted; Inquisitorial Fortress, Bethor VIII
Transmitter; Astropath Ginla
Receiver; Astropath Wulesh
Salutations Lord!
I am pleased to report that the heretical witch-coven, the blasphemous sect known as "Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft" has been eliminated, and every member of this vile cult has been cleansed with fire and sword.
Accompanied by five squads of veteran Inquisitorial Stormtroopers, two-hundred local militia, a dozen arco-flagellants, two Penitent Engines, and three squads drawn from the Order of the Holy Nimbus, we began our assault upon the fortress of the enemy at dawn's first light. Although the castle was hidden from normal sight by a myriad of hexes and foul enchantments, these wards were easily bypassed thanks to the psyk-out strike launched by the Persecution, and we were able to begin the assault.
We stormed the grounds, suffering only minor casualties from various self-defence spell-traps that the enemy had placed within the grounds. These traps were disposed of quickly by my cadre of sanctioned psykers, and we able to press on.
We were soon accosted by a heavily-haired mutant of exceptional height and bulk (see pict attachments 00-03) upon approaching the castle's main portcullis. He was accompanied by a variety of abominable creatures (pict attachments 04-16), gruesome beasts which looked like twisted parodies of ancient creatures of legend- such beasts included a disturbing horse/eagle hybrid and assorted scorpion/crab-like creatures, each one the size of a small landcar, amongst others. The large mutant challenged us in an accent I did not recognise, but no doubt it was speaking in some daemonic tongue. I ordered the attack. The creatures of the mutant beastmaster took a heavy toll on the local militia and my Stormtroopers, but our numbers and weaponry were superior, and the Sisters of the Holy Nimbus swiftly brought down the creatures with bolter, melta and flamer fire. The giant mutant beastmaster possessed incredible strength and endurance, and managed to inflict crippling damage on one of the Penitent Engines and kill and seriously wound twenty-three militia, Sisters and Stormtroopers before it was brought down by the holy rage of the arco-flagellants (three of which perished due to lethal combat stimm overdose- in death, they have been granted His Forgiveness).
We consolidated our position and set up a strong foothold whilst our chirurgeons and Sisters Hospitaller provided healing for the wounded and mercy for the dying.
To the south, I glimpsed an oval structure that appeared to resemble a standard Imperial amphitheatre or coliseum (pict attachments 17-20). Six tall poles, topped with huge hoops, were situated on this "pitch", three at each end. I theorised that the cult held some form of diabolical rituals or ceremonies there, and that the hoops were utilised in these.
No sooner had our wounded been comforted and aided by our medical staff, the witches of the Hogwarts School appeared. I was at first shocked at the average age of our foe; the youngest seemed to be ten years of standard, the oldest no more than seventeen. They were led by five older psykers (see accompanying pict-files 21-25), and they outnumbered us nearly two to one. At first, I foolishly thought that fighting children would be no challenge, but I chastised myself, remembering that each of these younglings was an illegal psyker, taught by their council of the older rogue psykers.
The eldest of the rogue psykers (pict 21), whom I presumed to be the leader, stepped forward, and I saw the malevolence and hatred in his eyes that spoke of a man driven insane by the daemonic power which he wielded. He personally addressed me, giving his name as Albus Dumbledore, but I did not wish to bandy words with a heretic and a witch, so before he could speak any further and bewitch me, I disposed of him with my stake crossbow and gave the order for my force to attack.
Pandemonium erupted immediately. The younger psykers were herded back into the castle by two of the "teachers"; a wrinkled midget (pict/subject 24) and a portly woman bedecked with scraps of local flora (pict/subject 25). The older children retaliated, led by the other two psykers, a crone-faced woman (pict/subject 22) and a cadaverous man with long black greasy hair (pict/subject 23).
The psykers launched a variety of psychic attacks that killed and/or otherwise incapicitated my warriors. I saw some terrible things. Two Stormtroopers stumbled and fell to the ground, as if their limbs had ceased to function. Sister-Palatine Lucresia was transmuted in a second from a proud warrior of the Adepta Sororitas to a pewter goblet. Local militia either burst into laughter so violent that their blood vessels burst, or were inflated like carnival balloons. Arco-flagellants slipped and collapsed as the ground beneath them was turned to ice. I remained unscathed, thanks to the protection offered by my hexagrammic wards and my accompanying sanctioned and penitent psykers.
I rallied my troops and pressed the attack. Many of the child psykers were slain by the accurate firepower of my Stormtroopers and the Sisters, and they fled in craven dissarray, only to be picked off at the leisure of my warriors and I. Subject 23 was bisected by Sister Superior Paminda's eviscerator, whilst Subject 22 met the Emperor's Judgement at the claws of the Penitent Engine.
We advanced into the castle, gunning down resistance where we found it. Subjects 24 and 25 were killed as they defended the younger heretics, many of whom surrendered after the deaths of their "teachers". I tasked Stormtrooper Lieutenant Virone with prisoner detail, and he and his squad set about dealing with the captured children, taking them to the evac zone and transferring them to the null-cells aboard the Persecution, where they would await interrogation and execution.
We finally came across the last point of resistance in the great hall of the castle, a room so seeped in obscene witchery that I permitted only the Sisters and my personal staff to accompany me inside- I could not risk the corruption of the Stormtroopers.
At the end of the hall stood four figures (picts 26-29), all of them young psykers. Three of the psykers were male, and one was female. They began a last-ditch defence, but their efforts were in vain. The blonde, arrogant-looking male (pict/subject 27) was reduced to ashes by my gun-servitor's plasma cannon, and the freckled, red-haired male (pict/subject 2 took a trio of bolter shots to the chest. The female, a young girl with long, curly brown hair (pict/subject 26) surrendered to us, and I immediately placed an inhibitor upon her (I have since transferred Subject 26 to my own staff, where she now serves as a penitent psyker).
The final male, a boy with thick black hair, spectacles, and a curious scar on his forehead (pict/subject 29) was monstrously powerful for one so young, and claimed the lives of four Sisters, my two gun-servitors, and Interrogator Delaun before he was stopped. As Interrogator Tesze held him in the jaws of her mancatcher, I prepared my power stake for the killing strike. Subject 29 looked at me frantically and cried out; "You idiot muggle! If you kill me, Voldemort will return!"
I presumed that "muggle" was some sort of profane cult slang. I had no idea who "Voldemort" was/is, but I assume that the witch's babble was a desperate and useless plea to prevent me from dispensing justice. I paid his rambling no heed, and impaled his heart with my sacred power stake.
Our mission a success, we ransacked the castle for any heretical items that would need to be immediately destroyed to prevent them from corrupting the servants of the Emperor any longer. We found all manner of wands, ingredients, spellbooks and scrolls, and curious orb-shaped relics (picts 30-32; note the curious wings that adorn the tiny golden ball in pict 32). All was put to the cleansing flame.
Upon our return to the Persecution, I gave the order for Captain Yevonce to begin the orbital bombardment of the castle, completely obliterating the vile structure. As we made warp transition to Bethor VIII, I and my staff began the interrogation of the young witches.
My apologies for the lack of transcripts at this current moment, but I regret to announce that both my scribe-skull and auto-savant are both out of ink and parchment, and Interrogator Tesze has been forced to transcribe the interrogations from the various vox-thief recordings. The transcripts will be with you shortly, my Lord.
The stain of the Hogwarts coven has been wiped from the Emperor's glorious realm.
Your Servant,
Inquisitor Predujis Bigotin
You've probably read that before. I just thought it was funny.
Battle of Decatur AAR
Sep. 5th, 2006 11:07 pmThings got off to an early start Thursday on the trip to Decatur. Travis and I rolled out about 10:30 after I'd spent the early hours loading my car and preparing everything for the trip. First stop was actually Florence Alabama and a visit with my Dad, which was fairly uneventful and enjoyable. It was nice seeing him again and I made sure to get solid commitments for him to come down to watch me at Saturday's battle. After a night spent at Dad's, Travis and I set out for Decatur Friday Afternoon arriving at camp well before most of the 6th had made it in. Friday was then spent doing setup and getting acclimated to the campground. My sleep was interrupted by a Cicada bug flapping against my tent in its death throes, but after it finally settled down and died like a good giant insect, I nodded off to sleep.
Saturday opened bright and early with breakfast and then Officer's Call. No surprises were in store for us as they were at Tannehill since it'd already been agreed upon that we'd portray 10th Indiana both days of the event. Decatur was one of the battles in which the 10th featured prominently, and we were going to give a good accounting for our unit namesake. The one problem we did have was that we were a bit shorthanded. We were filled with greenhorns and fresh fish in the dismounted section, and there were almost no other union capable units at the battle. Worse, we had none of our dismounted officers present, not even our Sargent. Lt. Higgins called to say he'd arrive Sunday, but till then we were on our own for a field commander for the battle. Corporal King was next in line to take command, so he bravely took up his responsibility and announced that he'd be taking out the unit at the battle.
Our commander decided upon, we then moved on to one of the more interesting moments of the day. The 10th detailed out to take a picture duplicating a period photo of the original 10th at the battle of Decatur. Major McWilliams enthusiastically made sure that every i was dotted and every t crossed as we were moved about so that every member of the 10th, mounted and dismounted was in the right spot. With all of that done, the photo was snapped and we were made immortal. Our places in the history books secure, we then moved on to time for the battle itself.
Our mission on Saturday was a simple one. Defend against an attack by an overwhelming number of Rebel troops and attempt to hold. If the opportunity presented itself, mount a counterattack and drive the enemy from the field. To facilitate our mission Major McWilliams formed the Battalion (consisting of our unit and the 79th Indiana Infantry) on a raised hill dominated by hay bales turned into an impromptu defended obstacle. To our left, a small mortar team commanded directly by Major McWilliams, to our right, a light artillery battery and to our rear our mounted section ready to defend our flanks. The Rebels pressed on us with three solid units of infantry, a unit of dismounted cavalry and their own artillery section. All in all things looked poor for our side.
The battle opened with an artillery duel which kept our heads firmly down. Explosions (demo charges set before the fight) went off to our front and rear, sending a hail of debris showering on our heads. Most importantly, the artillery allowed the Rebels to begin advancing their superior numbers across the open field in front of us. Once the Rebels were in place to begin their assault, the artillery lifted and the attack began.
The Confederates, led by their cavalry wasted no time in advancing towards us at the double quick. However, we'd weathered the opening barrage well and Major McWilliams readied us present the enemy with an unpleasant surprise once they got to within point blank range. We loaded our rifles and held till Major McWilliams, watching intently gave the order for the Battalion to rise and fire upon the enemy. We came up as one, seeing ahead us the enemy Cavalry advancing at the double quick. One solid volley later they were wiped out to a man, and we dropped back behind our obstacle before the infantry behind could return fire. Reloaded, we waited for the infantry to fix for a bayonet charge, and once they did, we again met them with a quick rise and volley, mauling their front ranks and causing them to hesitate. With the enemy wavering, Corporal King gave the order for close quarters and the 10th opened up with a catastrophic hail of pistol shots as our troopers pulled their sidearms. Our firepower quickly decimated the lead Rebel infantry unit and caused the second to waiver. The 79th took advantage of the situation and quickly poured out from the right side of the barricade and advanced, keeping up a steady fire. Corporal King took the 10th out to the left and ordered us to advance as well, stopping regularly to deliver volleys into the retreating Rebels. The 10th dressed on the 79th's flank and we quickly pressed forward, moving on the Rebel Artillery with the intention to wheel defilade the artillery from their right. However, our mounted section poured out from the reserve and mauled the Rebel Artillery with a quick rideby and volley of pistol fire. Unfortunately, this is where the battle met its end. One of the troopers in the Federal artillery section that had taken a hit earlier in the battle suffered extreme heat exhaustion and called medic. With that, we dropped rifles, ceased fire and immediately made sure that EMT's rushed to his side to insure that he was safe. Fortunately, he was just severely dehydrated and all was ok. Still, the incident caused the battle to be over a bit earlier than expected and robbed the 10th of its well deserved victory.
Saturday concluded with a visit by my Dad to camp (he'd come to see the battle) and the arrival of Lt. Higgins. Everyone seemed fairly pleased with how the battle had gone, especially with how the Confederates had been broken trying to assault a defended obstacle. No one seemed to play "bullet proof vest" this time, meaning that when we delivered point blank volleys, large gaps were blasted in the enemy lines just as they would've been. It was a very solid battle only marred by the medical emergency at the end. We concluded the day with a free trip to the Decatur Water Park, where we had free tickets. This was of course a very typical way to end a battle during the civil war, and I engaged in such historically accurate events as the Water Slide and "Toilet Bowl".
After a quick breakfast and quicker officer's call, the scenario was set for the Sunday battle. The 10th would open in the same situation, defending the hay bales on the hill, but this time we were going to get overwhelmed by superior Confederate numbers and driven from the field. After an extensive drill we set up at our previous positions. Again the 79th Indiana was our companion unit, but we also received support from the 13th Ohio Infantry and a small contingent of unaffiliated Federal Infantry. The battle opened with our small unit of Infantry attempting to kidnap a poor confederate child from the crowd (all prearranged) and then fleeing back to the main body after the Confederate Cavalry rescued the child and drove the Federals away. After that, there was another artillery engagement that mirrored Saturday's, followed by a similar Confederate advance. This time however, we decided to come out from our obstacles and go on the counterattack immediately. Lt. Higgins gave the order for us to roll out of the obstacle with a fast right about followed by a right into line, placing our right flank firmly on the obstacle which was now defended by the 79th. The 79th and 13th engaged the Confederate Infantry while we pushed outwards, advancing by sections in a classy rolling thunder maneuver and pressing the Rebel Cavalry back. However, our success was very short lived as our casualties mounted from the fire by superior numbers. Major McWilliams came forward and ordered all units to fall back to the works and defend the obstacle again. We withdrew slowly, displacing to a small rise in the terrain to the right of the hay bales. Lt. Higgins chose this ground as a perfect place for us to make our last stand and gave the order for the 10th to go prone behind the crest of the rise and fire at will on the enemy. There we stood for several minutes, expending ammo and trying desperately to keep the Rebels at bay, but our efforts were in vain. The infantry began to break and run, causing panic to run through the ranks of the 10th. Two of our troopers immediately broke and ran, threatening to trigger an all out rout. Seeing this collapse, Major McWilliams decided to order the Battalion to fall back, but his order quickly lost control and most of the troops started running all out. Lt. Higgins tried to rally the 10th but was shot down by Rebel troops as he tried to draw his saber. Seeing our commander dead, the 10th fled haphazardly in every direction. At this point I was on my own, so I began to backpedal, using my Sharps to breechload round after round as I tried to keep my retreat in good order. No question, I wasn't quitting the field without a fight. Corporal King and I tried to rally a skirmish line of troops, but for the most part everyone was already either dead or fleeing. The Color guard, ran all out and managed at least to save the colors by getting to the safety of the treeline. Corporal King and I, along with several other infantrymen from various units, decided to spend our lives in an effort to keep the enemy from capturing our fleeing color guard and thereby preserve the honor of the regiment. My end came just as the rebels had completely seized the hill and hay bales that we had so desperately defended. One of the Rebel soldiers took dead aim on me and fired, and I seeing that took my obligatory hit and went down. Sadly, Corporal King didn't see me fall and then tripped over my "corpse" as he fell back, causing him no injury but bending his saber scabbard. With that, our entire regiment had either fled or been killed and the battle was firmly in the hands of the Confederates.
After the battle there was not much else to do but pack up and leave, so that's what was done. Decatur was in the books and I logged it down as quite a fun event. I especially enjoyed using my new rifle the first time and was very much enthused with the rate of fire and cool factor of the Sharps. It was something else to be the envy of veteran reenactors. It was also cool to see Travis get his first taste of reenacting. Hopefully he will get the bug and be at more events. Regardless, all is done and now it's time to look forward to Buckhorn Tavern.
( Decatur Pictures )
I posted this in Will's LJ, but was so taken with my own keen knowlege of history that I decided to also place it here. After I wrote this I started thinking to myself that I should write a book that would explain the entire sweep of American History in one comprehensive tome..
Shortly after Adolph Hitler's defeat at the hands of FDR at the Battle of Washington DC, Hitler fell back with his Robot Armies and disabled Battle Kraken "The Gottermandung" to his final storm shrouded stronghold in Japan. We all know what happened next. FDR, mortally wounded and paralyzed from his epic battle at the gates of the White House, bravely sacrificed himself by having his Battle Kraken "Liberty" dropped with him piloting it over Tokyo, destroying most of the island and sending refugees throughout Asia.
The largest contingent of these invaded and conquered Vietnam from the French, who had colonized the empty nation many years before. Unfortunately, the leader of the refugees was the Arch-Villain Hans Ho-Chi-Minh, one of Hitler's right hand men and a leader of his vile Communist front. Worse, Ho had salvaged one of Hitler's most feared Battle Krakens, "Blitzkrieg" and he used it to create a harsh dominion over the once lush paradise. America did not sit by, and its new President Harry S. Johnson sent in the Freedom Legion under General MacArthur to resist Ho's regime.
The Legion managed to reconquer most of the southern half of Vietnam, but they were stopped short of total victory when Ho and the "Blitzkrieg" counterattacked at the battle of Chosin, and killed General MacArthur. Determined not to be defeated, Johnson commissioned Robert Oppenheimer to build yet another Atomic Battle Kraken to even the odds, and the results came forth in the form of the Kraken "General Washington". Just as FDR before him, Johnson personally piloted his Kraken to Vietnam to try to turn the tide.
The battle that resulted will live forever in history as one of the bloodiest and most vicious in American History as Johnson drove deep into the North Vietnamese heartland, slaughtering Ho's atomically mutated super soldiers. Finally, at the gates of Hanoi, Johnson and Ho locked in a titanic battle not seen since Hitler and FDR dueled at the end of the Second World War. Sadly, America was not to emerge triumphant. Just as Johnson was about to bring down his Servo-Hammer on Ho's cockpit to seal a victory for freedom, Stalin appeared out of nowhere, piloting his own Kraken the "Red Star". Stalin, once a staunch ally of America against Hitler, had been infected with the vile Nazi stain of communism and had made a secret pact to help Ho defend Vietnam from the aggressions of decency and freedom. Together, Ho and Stalin killed President Johnson and destroyed the "General Washington". It is said that President Johnson's lovely wife Jackie could be heard to weep for months in seclusion in the White House Tower.
After Johnson's defeat, the Freedom Legion could not hold on alone and they were slaughtered almost to a man in the brave defense of Saigon. Only a few brave soldiers were able to escape from the roof of the American Embassy as the vile Nazi Battle Krakens bore down on the city. The new President, Richard M. Nixon, had no choice but to surrender to Ho-Chi-Minh. As part of the deal, the Vietnamese got part of Korea, and all of China. Nixon, a broken man, was forced to resign in disgrace and America has borne the wound of the Vietnam war sadly ever since.
Shortly after Adolph Hitler's defeat at the hands of FDR at the Battle of Washington DC, Hitler fell back with his Robot Armies and disabled Battle Kraken "The Gottermandung" to his final storm shrouded stronghold in Japan. We all know what happened next. FDR, mortally wounded and paralyzed from his epic battle at the gates of the White House, bravely sacrificed himself by having his Battle Kraken "Liberty" dropped with him piloting it over Tokyo, destroying most of the island and sending refugees throughout Asia.
The largest contingent of these invaded and conquered Vietnam from the French, who had colonized the empty nation many years before. Unfortunately, the leader of the refugees was the Arch-Villain Hans Ho-Chi-Minh, one of Hitler's right hand men and a leader of his vile Communist front. Worse, Ho had salvaged one of Hitler's most feared Battle Krakens, "Blitzkrieg" and he used it to create a harsh dominion over the once lush paradise. America did not sit by, and its new President Harry S. Johnson sent in the Freedom Legion under General MacArthur to resist Ho's regime.
The Legion managed to reconquer most of the southern half of Vietnam, but they were stopped short of total victory when Ho and the "Blitzkrieg" counterattacked at the battle of Chosin, and killed General MacArthur. Determined not to be defeated, Johnson commissioned Robert Oppenheimer to build yet another Atomic Battle Kraken to even the odds, and the results came forth in the form of the Kraken "General Washington". Just as FDR before him, Johnson personally piloted his Kraken to Vietnam to try to turn the tide.
The battle that resulted will live forever in history as one of the bloodiest and most vicious in American History as Johnson drove deep into the North Vietnamese heartland, slaughtering Ho's atomically mutated super soldiers. Finally, at the gates of Hanoi, Johnson and Ho locked in a titanic battle not seen since Hitler and FDR dueled at the end of the Second World War. Sadly, America was not to emerge triumphant. Just as Johnson was about to bring down his Servo-Hammer on Ho's cockpit to seal a victory for freedom, Stalin appeared out of nowhere, piloting his own Kraken the "Red Star". Stalin, once a staunch ally of America against Hitler, had been infected with the vile Nazi stain of communism and had made a secret pact to help Ho defend Vietnam from the aggressions of decency and freedom. Together, Ho and Stalin killed President Johnson and destroyed the "General Washington". It is said that President Johnson's lovely wife Jackie could be heard to weep for months in seclusion in the White House Tower.
After Johnson's defeat, the Freedom Legion could not hold on alone and they were slaughtered almost to a man in the brave defense of Saigon. Only a few brave soldiers were able to escape from the roof of the American Embassy as the vile Nazi Battle Krakens bore down on the city. The new President, Richard M. Nixon, had no choice but to surrender to Ho-Chi-Minh. As part of the deal, the Vietnamese got part of Korea, and all of China. Nixon, a broken man, was forced to resign in disgrace and America has borne the wound of the Vietnam war sadly ever since.
