And hail and rain does blaw; Or the stormy north sends driving forth The blinding sleet and snaw: While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down, And roars frae bank to brae; And bird and beast in covert rest, And pass the heartless day. Old Terran poem, M18
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Green grow’th the holly So doth the ivy; Though winter blasts blow ne’er so high, Green grow’th the holly The holly and the ivy, When they are both full grown, Of all the trees that are in the wood, The holly bears the crown. The holly bears a prickle, As sharp as any Thorne, Rise […]
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A few of our fellow Pilgryms are heading to Nottingham this weekend to meet up with like minded people from across the continents for some =][=munda gaming using the new Necromunda rules. They will be playing on the amazing Lesotho 212 board shipped across from LA and with this guest appearance of PDH’s amazing female […]
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This view of a living nature where man is nothing is both odd and sad. Here, in a fertile land, in an eternal greenness, you search in vain for traces of man; you feel you are carried into a different world from the one you were born into. – Alexander von Humboldt, Ancient Terran Explorer
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We have here a short intermezzo between the Defenders of the Thornes post and the final post on the Iron Sleet Invitational soon to be published. We completely missed HotPandas amazing Blood Thorne Consortium in the Defenders of the Thornes post, so here it is in all its Blood Thorne Red glory!
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[…] in some of nature’s forests, the adventurous traveler seems a feeble, unwelcome creature; wild beasts and the weather trying to kill him, the rank, tangled vegetation, armed with spears and stinging needles, barring his way and making life a hard struggle. – John Muir, Ancient Terran Explorer, M.19
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All men need something to fight for, a cause to believe in. Tell them that the Emperor needs them to hold that ground at all costs, and they’ll fight like lions. – Commisar Tyreen, Versimmon Dragoons
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Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the greenwood haste away; We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size; We can show the marks he made When ‘gainst the oak his antlers fray’d; You shall see him brought to bay Waken, lords and ladies gay. – Old Hunting Verse, Walter […]
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