Gangrel Antitribu Newsletter


EDITORIAL: END OF AN ERA [tribute to John Eagles]
FICTION: FINAL KNIGHTS [A sequel to an old story [see this NL for January 
2000], inspired by the new GW Inquisitor skirmish game]
MATTHEW GREEN'S POWERBASE WATFORD DECK [another really creative deck from 
the Master of such things, with his comments]

As everybody knows by now, John Eagles' shop at Second Byte in Albert road 
has closed. John is continuing with a PC rental business and is also looking 
into getting a "proper job". Marshall MacCrombie of Southsea models has bought 
most or perhaps all of John's role-playing stuff but there's no getting away from 
the fact that this is a Light Night for the UK VTES-playing community. We 
can take comfort from the fact that Dave Hammond and Mike Nudd's tournaments 
continue, that tournaments are happening in Southampton, and we hope that 
John will be able to find a new venue for the Portsmouth tournaments. Most of all 
we should recognise the HUGE debt that we owe to John for his promotion of 
the VTES scene essentially single-handed for so many years. Thank-you, John, for 
all your efforts.

An enormous red arc was rising out of the horizon to its left as the figure 
in battered power-armour reached the top of the slope, where a rim of broken 
walls surrounded a pock-marked and repeatedly-melted surface. The mind in 
the suit scanned around the site with its artificial senses. Sparks and little 
tendrils of dust were beginning to rise from the ash-slope as the radiation 
from the rising star burned through the thin atmosphere. Miroslav, the mind 
suddenly thought to itself, Miroslav, that was my name when I was alive, so 
very, very many centuries ago. And then the Knights came to my castle and I 
was turned into that which I am, Vampyr. Those Knights . I remember 
..Walther and Joachim, whatever became of them? Ah yes, didn't they dig out Walther 
during the witch-hunts? He screamed like a pig for hours, or so it seemed. 
And Joachim, he lasted for a bit, the wily old dog. A leaky suit on Rigel 6 let 
him down though, two, maybe three centuries ago - and I too would burn to a 
crisp here in seconds if THIS suit malfunctioned.  Little puddles of viscous 
glass were forming around the feet of the suit and Miroslav could feel the 
slight pluck as its feet rose and fell, touring around the arena. Yes, this 
would do ... he scanned around for a suitable surface, and picked up a flat 
stone. Extending a carborundum-coated claw he wrote on it in Latin: "Here 
fell Miroslav, Formerly Count of the Hungarian Marches on Terra, Last of the 
Teutonic Order. Long Life-in-Death to the Emperor of Mankind!" And then, 
certain other preparations having been made, he settled down to wait.

Across the plain the Aliens were coming, thirty or so greenskins in and 
around a ramshackle half-tracked vehicle. Kaptin Grumbelly mopped his ablative brow 
and cursed as more little bits of burned skin flaked off, obscuring his 
vision. "C'mon ya fakkin' stuntyfakkas! They can' 'av gotten far!" A smaller 
greenskin on the bonnet of the vehicle looked back at him mournfully. 
"Sorry, boss, difficult to track in these conditions. No moisture, no scent . an' 
even the bleedin' footprints is meltin'. Maybe that hilly thing? I kinda sense 
the Imperialists over there, course it could be the building." "'K, let's try 
it.  Ladz, youze lot go right, youze go left . NOOO!! THAT left, ya boneheads. 
Mork's Jockstrap, youze lot are as much use as as Elf in a beerkeller." The 
vehicle turned and slowly began to crawl up the slope to the ruin.

Grumbelly heard the click of the first razor mind just in time to duck, but 
not quickly enough to warn his Boyz. Three of them exploded in showers of 
blood and guts as the little blades ripped through their bodies. Other 
blades tore into the guts of the vehicle doing it no mechanical good at all, 
judging by the way it ground to a complete halt, and the surviving greenskins 
alighted. They began to weave their way up the hill on foot, firing as they 
did at their unseen enemy. Grumbelly followed them, trying to pick out where 
the counter-fire was coming from .. Not too much of it, anyhows, just five 
or six geezers. Hah! Saw one of them there, maybe even winged 'im. "C'mon, 
ladz! Roast Human tonight, I'm finking! Bagzi the liver!" The remaining Greenskins 
began to breast the rise and then . to waver??? WATTHEFAK??? They were 
running back! Grumbelly shot down one of the runners and picked another up by the 
throat where he writhed, wild-eyed and frothing at the mouth. "Su-su-suckas, 
boss! There's a fakkin Humie Dead Sucka up there!" Grumbelly shook his 
captive twice, hard, breaking his neck, and then began to toil up the slope himself. 
"If you want a fing doing right, do it yaself. ALWAYS the same. Can' even 
eat the buggers when ya finish wiv 'em, either." Seeing their Kaptin going on 
seemed to revive the greenskins' spirits but they still followed him in a 
most unmilitary huddle as he advanced, twiddling various dials on the great 
Kannon he carried.

They reached the top of the hill preceded by a salvo of frag-grenades and 
Grumbelly looked around. Nuffink, or so it seemed. Silently the old 
greenskin waved his warriors to form an arc in front of him and they began to move 
forward. A flicker of movement, and there it was, smashing old Bogpot with 
its right fist, blowing Tuska's brains out with the bolter in its left hand. Big 
bloke, sucka alright, one of them ones in white armour wiv black crosses. 
Haven't seen one of them for a long time. Long before those thoughts had 
finished forming the Kaptin's weapon was at his gigantic shoulder and carbon 
monofilaments were streaming from its barrel. Up a bit .. right a bit .. 
damme, e's quick.  Indeed, the combination of Miroslav's millennia of 
military training, his undead abilities and the technology of his suit was 
threatening to overwhelm the Greenskins, but Grumbelly didn't panic .. shifting his aim, 
he fired ahead of the vampire on fully automatic and it swerved to avoid the 
curtain of monfilaments . straight into the pool of molten glass, up to its 
knees. In the same microsecond the vampire realised that it had been 
outwitted, and the Kaptin realised he had won. Miroslav's last conscious 
action was to raise his hand in salute, which Grumbelly misinterpreted as an 
attempt to shield against the focussing stream of monofilaments .. the heart 
.. gotta get the heart .. gotcha! Suck on that, ya bugger!

The surviving greenskins circled their motionless opponent warily, and then 
began to laugh and caper. "Good ol' Kaptin! Gotta Sucka! Wot we gonna do wiv 
im, boss?" Grumbelly growled. "Cut is 'ead off. Only way. Can't eat 'em, 
can't loot 'em, fakkin waste of time an boyz. Ah well. Ooze gotta nice sharp 

On the way back down to the wrecked vehicle, Grumbelly stumbled on a stone 
with humie writing on it. Carefully he picked it up and squinted at the 
More stoopid humie crap, he thought, tossing it into the sky and then 
blowing it to atoms with his Stoppa rounds. Gork's bogies, it must be two days trek 
back to camp. Fak im an Fak all the fakkin humies an suckas. Bastards.

Matthew very kindly promised to let me feature this deck which he showed him 
at the last Portsmouth tournament. I give the deck without comments other 
than Matthew's own. Actually no, I do want to say that THIS is the kind of deck 
which in my opinion makes it worthwhile to play VTES, and ratings and VPs 
can just go hang.

   Morning James',

   Man did I suck. I had precisely no luck with the seating in this

   Round 1: Predator was Lasombra sneak/bleed deflection. Got deflected to
   6 times, Redirected twice. Would have been OK if; a) prey wasn't a
   non-combat Assamite run-away deck (and would you believe i forgot to
   metagame for that?) or b) I had avoided the 4 Wynn opening draw.
   Round 2: Put 4 of Barny's weenies down. Died like a punk.
   Round 3: Prdeators first action: Rush Darius with Uncontrolable Rage.
   prevention...?Hello? no. oh. Burn him? sure. Stanaslava. Uncontrollable
   what? sure. burn her. oh. ok.

   So, in short, a fun deck that should remain that way. Even though i
   sucked for 6 straight hours on Sunday, i did have a riot playing this:

   Body and Soul.
   3 Darius Styx
   4 Wynn
   2 Genevieve ***!Gangrel newsletter***
   3 Stanaslava

   2 Dreams ot Sphinx
   4 Redeam the Lost Soul
   2 Golconda, Inner Peace
   2 Blood Doll
   4 Chimestry
   2 Sudden Reversal
   1 Giants Blood

   4 Fata Morgana
   9 Illusions of Kindred
   10 Body of Sun (stop laughing)
   5 Wolf Claws
   7 Gleam of Red Eyes
   5 Rolling with the Punches
   3 Superior Mettle
   4 Freak Drive
   4 Drawing out the Beast
   6 Cats' Guidance
   6 WwEF
   6 Bums Rush
   2 Ambush
   1 Mark of the Damned
   1 Dramatic Upheaval

   Important rules bit:
   If the illusionary vampire is burned in combat (ending combat), the
   acting Methuselah chooses whether he is sent to the ash heap or removed
   from the game. [RTR 20001020]

   The rest should become clear from there. Nice on paper. lol.


And that's it for May. Is it just me or is the standard of the other 
newsletters just getting super-stellarly high? Not that they were ever bad, 
but it's amazing how thought-provoking and creative this month's crop are. 
Good work, comrades in evil! See you all again in June!