The Tribe.
My latest gaming dalliance is with the excellent Paleo Diet Stone Age skirmish rules.
I can almost hear you saying WTF* Broom?! Where are the ruddy muskets, where’s the pikes?
I know, I know, you didn't sign up for this nonsense (as was politely explained to me in an email by a recent ex blog follower!) however the heart wants what the heart wants and I guess in this day and age we all have to learn to live with disappointment don't we...besides Norm himself recently posted about subject matter drift - so I'm clearly in good company.
Anywhoo - should anyone out there still be reading this let me introduce the chaps I'll be using for my Paleo Diet hunting party.
Igg: Quite a looker is our Igg, well that’s what his mom says anyhow. Igg has an eye for the laydeez and is currently trialling a new cologne of his own devising called… “hint of mammoth”. |
Ugg: A couple of Cromagnon boys gave Ugg this strange hunting contrivance - well they did when he agreed to stop strangling them. Now he’s got to work out how to use it. |
Ogg: Ogg loves his new sedimentary cryptochrystalline chert tipped hunting stick. It sports the latest in bark textured grip control too. Here… Feel the weight. |
Egg: Poor old Egg is a life long sufferer of explosive flatulence. Hunting parties have to ensure that Egg and Agg are kept apart where possible due to their potential combustibility. |
Toodle ooh!
* My grandchildren are very keen for me to encourage a younger demographic to the hobby through the use of "text speak". As a strong advocate of all things new (cough) I am of course very happy to oblige and am delighted to learn that "WTF" apparently stands for Well That’s Fantastic.
Who knew?