First and foremost - a very enjoyable weekend, big well done to Steve for getting it sorted so well, as ususal! Secondly, thank you to Richard Crawley for getting me to the train in time to type this.

Several traditions were observed. However, as I improved my placing from 21st last year to 19th this year, it would be churlish to grumble :-) Especially about the stunned reaction to me having a girlfriend [1] for once...

The three-day Berkeley weekend went a bit like...

07:10. Woke up, had coffee, went home [2] and continued desperate rush to finish army. Promise never to paint Duplo hott again. Finished painting and varnishing cleric general and paladin and spears. Give up on final warband and bodge one (which no one noticed). Get train to Exeter and then Stroud. Become the first of at least three people that day to receive phone calls from Steve's trousers. Steve very kindly then spoke to me in person, collected me, and I met his family and was fed; whilst basing the army. All very kind and pleasant. How little I suspected the average mental age of the company I keep would plummet in just 24 hours. Went to Berkeley and, whilst Steve's trousers made another two phone calls, we set up. I played my Space Crusaders against Steve's Ottomans in a warm up and beat them, thus becoming champion of Berkeley and, indeed, the world.

The End

[1]About which I will not comment further :D
[2]That was an allusion, not a comment.

Saturday,

09:10. Wandered in slightly stunned and headachy fashion from hotel room to the field of battle. The only other person present is Alan, who presumably dunks three Weetabix a day in his cocoa to always be around and awake that early. We wander off to find me paracetamol and breakfast bars, and I guess to give Alan a cheap laugh as I blink in pain at the sun.

Back at the hotel, everyone else has arrived and unpleasantries are exchanged. I slope off to finish the army. I discover I'm playing Richard Bodley Scott in the first round. The defeated Ottoman general finds this amusing... Richard's Goblins slowly advances down the flank towards a (very nice) pool scifi army, and he gets back to grips with the game.[5] The poor sod had to ask me a couple of things for crying out loud. I then dispose of his hero before throwing the game in stupidity. Dragons do recoil if they are a flank in a lost combat, Ewins you plank. 44-4.

Game two [3] was against a local lad called Chris ? (Sorry mate if you're reading this). My first outing with Barking "Bad Boy" Boris, the Bishop of Berkeley and the rest of the newly finished Army of Moderation. Chris takes the RBS Anti-Claus army from last year. Eep! I get very lucky against the dragon, he stuffs two of my warband, I take out some spears and shooters. A win, but a good close game. The lad's got talent as the saying goes unlucky to pick up one of the most discussed armies of the last year maybe?

Lunch was eaten.

Game three [3] was a lovely Duplo eElven host (Ken's) vs Andy Thomas's Home Guard - another top quality army. And scarily effective. I spread some hordes of cherubs on one flank, in a speed-bump formation (and tactic) for the riders and the paladin. They promptly ignore it and plow through my army like...like... like... like someone playing against me. The spear general and three others form a surprisingly effective last stand in the centre of the army [4] but to no avail....

Game four [3] was Richard Tyson, who provided a damn fine game last year if I recall. This game was another cracker - My Moderate Fanatics vs. Steve P's Wood elves. His two beasts took on mine and were seen off, one considerably after the other. In a confused and bloody melee I lost a warband or several, his lurker stood off to my spear for 3 goes, and we ended up at a climatic battle. Which we drew. And again. And again. It took (IIRC) 5 drawn combats, any of which could have ended the game, before the dice could separate us. Very tense and a joy to play.

There was a friendly game in which Mr Price utterly humiliated both myself and the German Gear Kreig army. Worse than the next game I played, as at this time I was still in control of my senses.

After the very enjoyable German board game and some mad card games, we adjourned to the curry house, and ate, drank, had the urine removed in no uncertain way, and proved who was shortest (although I'm still not convinced). And under duress I revealed what Alan said that made Sebastian blanche last year. Hopefully they can now both remember and won't mail me off list asking like last year...

Events on our return to the hotel are best left to Alan's report.

[3] I think. These things blur.... Forgive me if I'm out of sync. But I remember playing all these at some point. On some day.
[4] Notice how I cunningly relegate the careless loss of an aerial hero, and a paladin, to a footnote.
[5] Nothing to see here - move along[7].
[6] Really.
[7] I'll do these in whatever order I like[6].

9:10 or thereabouts.

Game five [3] was against Tony Horobin [8] and the Moderate Purists take on the Tibetans complete with yeti lurker. It never looked terribly promising, I was defending and Tony advanced in a very solid line that I never tempted into bad going. My arse once again handed to me on a plate. It was a very entertaining game to play apologies if this comment is waaaay out of order, but if you want to play Peter Kay at hordes, be at Berkeley next year. ;) [9]

Game six [3] was against Ty. A very nice Greek army defended their sacred grove, and I choose Alan's very nice Fshmen to go against them. We ended up in two lines with two Greek warband behind, and there was much pushing and shoving. The fish shooters died horribly with the exception of one element who played recoils with a cleric. I thought I would lose by them going off the board at one point, and they started central. Ty's god refused to show through the game, and neither of us deployed our lurkers. Eventually the Greeks destroyed enough of the spears to count but it was another very entertaining game.

Sebastian dragged us around the village looking for food before giving up and eating in the hotel.

After lunch the standings are so obvious that I play Roger. The Funky Death Mice fight the Moderate Fanatics. Roger deploys and moves. A little. The behemoth rat ogre is unlucky to die to four warband. The clan eshin sneaker assaults my cleric general, and is repulsed, fortunate again! The sneaker eventually falls to a flank kill. Just as the warband shove between the bad and impassable going seems decisive, we're timed out. Desperate to finish the little furry bastard general I plea for another bound but only succeed in losing a warband. We call it a day. Slightly grudgingly possibly it's not
often I see competition games I haven't lost due to stupidity. Sorry Roger!

Two wins and a draw. Just like last year, except I haven't been humiliated by Thomo yet. What can go wrong?

The final game. Points wise I think I should have been playing Sebastian, but due to players not being able to repeat games, we were slightly shuffled so I played Thomo. His pirate army is very handsome, with an excellent lurker. Some concerted shooting dealt with all of my warband, and then my paladin died at the hands of his hero. I believe I killed a lurker. 47-1. Good fun but not close! Sebastian's last game was looking more tense and so we didn't play Bimbos/Bikers vs. Moderate Fanatics. Could do next year though.

[3] I think. These things blur. Forgive me if I'm out of sync. But I remember playing all these at some point. On some day.
[8] "Giving birth to a pommy" being a phrase used at this point. Bad Thomo.
[9] to watch Tony give me a justified slap if nothing else.

Back to The Stronghold