En Guarde you Villain's

En Guarde you Villain’s

It was a fine Spring day in one of the Piddling villages, the sun was high in the sky and the pheasants were making the sort of soft clucking sound as they thought of the mating season to come, followed by the long lazy days of summer, then of course there was the 12th of August but the pheasants didn’t allow the future to impinge on the present too much.

Unlike Squire Samuel Benbow Snapcase, a lesser known scion of the famous Snapcase family, The Lords Snapcase were held in some high regard among the Piddling’s; Lesser Piddling, Greater Piddling and Much Piddling in the Marsh.

Squire Samuel was waiting impatiently for the Revenue Men. Yes - I know you might be thinking that they were the last people he would want to see, what with the honey distillery he was running in one of the Outhouses close to the Big House, but of course you’d be wrong.

He had a long standing, understanding, is I think the correct term and the understanding was with Captain ‘Old’ Bill Avery of His Majesties Revenue Service. Cptn Avery liked to confiscate contraband in the name of the King, as much and as often as he could. His only issue with this situation was that he didn’t believe the King needed to receive all of the confiscated goods. There was some leeway for an enterprising man to spread the bounty around to local deserving causes before the balance of the contraband was secured in His Majesties Government’s bonded warehouses.

Squire Samuel and Cptn Avery both regarded themselves as deserving local causes and so to that end a motley crew of Revenue men were protecting a small shipment of high value contraband as they trudged slowly along the green lane to the Squires house.

Captain Avery liked to lead his men from the front and he was ably assisted by Mad John Leadstone, they chatted amicably as they made their along the track, their pace was slowed by the pack ponies but even more so by the two men in front of the ponies. Scudder and Fishbait had served in the Royal Navy for many years but had both been severely wounded and each lost a leg in the service of their country. They wryly joked that between them they had the best pair of legs in the Piddlings and they could spread them further than anyone else.

Well - except of course for the Widow Hackett but she had extenuating circumstances that we don’t need to go into here.

Avery and Leadstone had opened a gap between themselves and the rest of the crew and this was to be their undoing. A swarthy gnome of a woman rose quietly from behind the hedge and aimed her musket at the back of Cptn Avery’s noble head and with a grunt in Spanish she pulled the trigger.

Our gallant Captain might have mistaken the ill looking woman for one of the beasts in the field but that was his last mistake, as her bullet went through the back of his skull and out the front. Leadstone looked down in horror as his commanding officer fell to the ground. Although it probably went through his mind that there would be no open casket for Avery he responded to the attack immediately.

“Ambush” he roared in a voice that could have been heard in the Main Tops when he was a young Lieutenant in the Royal Navy and even now his men responded as a well trained team will……..They dithered a little, dallied even more and then ran around like headless chickens.

Scudder pushed through the hedge and screaming like a banshee, he advanced on the ill looking Spanish woman.

Seconds later another woman rose from the near side of the hedge, she was dressed in a tight fitting green uniform and armed with a Baker Rifle. Quick as lightening she aimed and fired on Mad John Leadstone, blood trickled from the wound but he remained on his feet. Swaying a little from the pain he bellowed to Fishbait “Get her” In spite of his wooden crutch Fishbait lunged through the hedge bordering the track and drawing his cutlass he closed with the cowardly assassin who recoiled in horror as the brave man advanced.

The unarmed mule skinner was heard to mutter “The Saints preserve us” as another of the ill looking bunch poked her wicked head over the wall next to him. This was the leader of the dastardly band, a low outcast from society, Mary Shelly with an itchy belly. She was known in the drinking dens of the marches as a poet and writer of sorts, an underserved reputation, unlike the one she had for treachery and low cunning which was well deserved.

She might have been one of the most unsavoury characters to wave a red and white plume on a shako but she was a crack shot and the innocent mule skinner died instantly.

It would be no comfort to him to know that Comfort Weeks strolled calmly to the wall and realising that the rules seemed to favour shooting more than was expected put a bullet between the squinty eyes of Shelly with the itchy belly and the leader of the cowardly desperadoes died as quickly as her previous innocent victim.

Comfort Weeks also took no comfort from the fact that like a demented Jack in a box, another of the villainous crew popped up and shot her without warning. There was some mutinous muttering that the villain had a book in one hand and a sword in the other, how then was she able to shoot, this was quickly quashed by the chap who was reading the rules.

As you see here Tempest Abercrombie exacted swift revenge for the unlawful killing of poor Comfort by putting a bullet into the scurrilous hound and you can see her blood staining the ground. (The red cube means she’s wounded, but you probably guessed that.) Unfortunately she didn’t die like the dog she was. (Note the tense).

Brave and noble Edouard d’Orsay drew his cutlass and advanced on the evil wretch. Brandishing his weapon he invited her to take a turn or two around the dead body of her leader, she blanched and stuttered a reply that was lost in the wind.

(Note the book and sword - clearly no pistol).

Another of the evil crew steps out from hiding and plugs the already wounded John Leadstone. No mercy is obviously their battle cry. Muffled a little from behind their hiding places.

Edouard attacked his wicked enemy and struck a mighty blow, she parried in vain because her cheap nine penny sword was smashed asunder and his blade made of the finest Sheffield steel clove her to the bone. She died a whimpering death.

Things are looking quite sticky for our intrepid hero’s, but they’re a plucky bunch and will fight on in spite of the loss of their courageous leader and valiant second in command.

Typically the enemy resort to underhand tactics, two against one. Fishbait is a fine old gentleman with one leg and he had an exhausting night the previous night, battling monsters in an underground cavern system, a tale that may never be told now, but these wicked scoundrels have no honour and show no mercy, they attack him viciously.

They butcher the poor old, one legged gentleman without remorse, as Modesty Higginbottom looks on in horror at the unspeakable events happening in front of her. She points her pistol and fires, there is the satisfaction of seeing one of the ignoble fiends’s hit and blood spurts from the wound. Of course you can’t get blood from a stone and so this dries up quickly.

The other old veteran, Scudder is slain by the callous Spanish witch and he dies a painful death, his passing is not an easy one as she leans over him, muttering in Spanish. She asks where he keeps his valuables but the scent of her garlic laden breath takes him aback and he can not respond.

That and the fact that he can’t speak Spanish so doesn’t have a clue what she is asking.

Well they might be a plucky bunch but events are unfolding in favour of the mean, cowardly, back shooting ambushers and the brave and plucky Revenue men decide they would be better off by making a strategic withdrawal. They have given their best but the odds were always against them, I think it was eight to eight but two of them only have 1 leg each so in a leg count the odds were against them.

Tempest Abercrombie, Edouard d’Orsay and Modesty Higginbottom looking pale and wan, make a fighting withdrawal (at speed) back down the green lane leaving behind many brave men and women of the Revenue Service.

There is an adjunct, maybe an addenda or addendum depending on your level of education, mine leads me to think of it as an extra bit but I’m sure someone will correct me soon enough.

After a few stiffening libations down at the Dog and Sprocket the surviving members of the Revenue men decided that they should return to the scene of their defeat and see if any of their brothers in arms survived the vicious and unprovoked ambush. Quietly moving up the green lane they can see lights on in Squire Samuel Benbow Snapcase’s house. Edging closer they see candles flickering and hear loud, raucous voices, shouting and singing as if in celebration.

They creep up to the house and hear some talk that indicates the rather manish figure in the tight fitting green uniform is none other than the infamous The Honourable Verity (Peaches) Snapcase, is she related in some strange way to Squire Snapcase? 

 Almost certainly.

Then Edouard remembers the recent rumour that the current Lord Snapcase has recruited a unit of ruffians and nerdowells called the Silver Bayonet, can this be the very same brigands that set upon the Revenue men.

As I hope, you will have realized my opponent for this game was the well known Mad Lord Snapcase, Lady Snapcase was visiting family and friends in the area and he was able to slip away for a short while. As always after his infrequent visits I was left saddened by the fact that he and the other member of our Triumvirate Sir Douglas live so far away. However on counting the number of empty bottles of wine and the depleted state of my larder it’s maybe just as well.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading my true and impartial account of our game.

Cheers