"Foul Mouth Freddy Takes ****ing Charge"
A Flintloque Scenario by Tony Harwood
Miniature and Photo by Tony Harwood
Having been busted to Private for his excursion to Burrow Port, Freddy must take charge of a green group of Provosts when they come under enemy fire on the way to his Court Marshall.
The young officer was nervous; he had recently had his commission bought for him by his maternal uncle and was now serving with the Provost Corps in Catalucia. His first mission; a simple transfer of prisoners from a small infantry camp back to Badajobz for trial. The reason for his anxiety was one Sergeant by particular, sorry Private Freddy T of the 69th Regiment of Foote. Stories of Foul Mouth Freddy were legendary. A soldier’s soldier and if there ever was such a thing a true ‘Orc Hero’. However, here was Algernon Dimwimple, tasked with accompanying this legendary Orc to a Court Marshal on the orders of his Uncle, Major Sim-San.
Captain Algernon was uncertain of all the facts, it seems that following a recent imposed quarantine it became apparent that Freddy had in fact sneaked out of camp, therefore breaking quarantine. Not content with just that he then rode out on the Majors very own horse, Sheer Guard, to the small town of Burrow Port, where various allegations had been made about his conduct. Most notably, the theft of certain items.
Algernon decided that he should (once again) check the prisoner… sorry prisoners, as there were in fact three. Freddy, the erstwhile Sergeant now demoted to Private. Private Rekhardt Pring (AKA Tricky Dickie, one of the best scroungers in the whole army of Albion) and a deaf old Dwarf called Viragio who Algernon wasn’t even sure was a soldier – dressed as he was in a ragged Landwehr coat with a white beard that was so long it actually touched the ground.
Algernon surveyed the quickly emptying camp, some Seamstresses, a Quartermaster with his small company of inexperienced Orc Red Coats and three more Provost Marshals (all officers, like himself – all green, none of them having seen any action, like himself). Everything looked quiet and peaceful as the last of the tents were being rolled up and loaded on to one of the two large wagons.
As Algernon looked to the West he could see that the nearest mountain ranges had their first coating of snow. Winter was coming and he had read enough in various press and regimental dispatches to realise that winter in Catalucia was not something to look forward too. But this morning the air was fresh, the sun bright and Algernon was hoping to be back in Badajobz by the end of the week. He nodded to Bertie, his second in command, who returned it with an uneasy salute and then looked over at Freddy, who sat with his back against a broken wagon wheel, dozing in the bright morning sun. The only slight anomaly was the fact that his wrists were in shackles partly hidden by his scruffy uniform. Algernon studied his sleeves – was it true that Freddy actually had his sergeant stripes tied on with ribbons – so often had they been awarded and then simply taken away?
Without even opening his eyes or moving a muscle, Freddy grunted. “Well pretty boy, what are you so ****ing interested in?”
Algernon actually felt sick with nerves and was about to reply, but activity to his right soon put all ideas of a silly quip or quick retort aside. The first gunshot was followed by a second and then a third. The Seamstresses screamed and while Freddy and Tricky Dickie expertly rolled for cover Algernon was acutely aware that this was his first time under actual enemy fire. As the shots rang out, Algernon’s short and uneventful life flashed before his suddenly closed eyes. Would father be proud of his ‘little boy’, would Mummy shed a tear or two? Just three weeks after leaving ‘Blighty’ and on his very first sortie Algernon Tremain DeWimple of the Leomington Spa De Wimple’s had just wet himself!
Chaos reigned. With the exception of the three experienced prisoners, Algernon realised was in charge of a rag-tag group of novices. They were all going to die and it was his fault. It was Freddy’s voice – his loud cursing voice that brought him out of his confusion.
“Get those ****ing Whores undercover. Set up a defensive line behind the two supply wagons and for ****’s sake unlock these shackles and pass me that bl**dy musket.”
Algernon was so shocked – after all he was a Gentle Orc and not used to such language, that he actually did as he was told instantly and soon Freddy and Dicky had both fired off a round each and were quickly reloading.
“Wha.. What should I do?” said the inexperienced Orc Provost.
“Well for bl**dy starters pick up that ****ing flintloque and start acting like a bl**dy soldier.” Said Freddy.
The initial assault had stumbled – It was likely that whoever was firing on this camp were not as organised as the Ferach Olde Guard – That was a blessing thought Freddy. A lull in the shooting allowed him to survey the tree line where the initial shots had come from. Whoever they were, they were keeping their bl**dy heads down. Algernon raised his head, curious to see what Freddy had been looking at. At the very same moment a musket ball flew past his head, it had been close enough for him feel the heat of the lead shotte.
“Keep your bl**dy head down.” Shouted Freddy.
Tricky Dickie began relaying a string of comments back to Freddy. “At least six ‘loques plus one larger gun, maybe a shotgun. All coming from the trees to our right. I can’t see any uniforms and they are very wary of showing themselves. We’ve got twelve able-bodied soldiers.” At this he looked across to the Provost captain who now had mud splattered all over his brand new bright red uniform, raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly so only Freddy could see. “Them, you, me and that deaf old bugger Viragio.
“The Seamstresses’ are panicking and should be our first priority. The Quartermaster is as good as ****ing useless and these fairies,” he looked again at Algernon, “are only a little better.”
Freddy turned to the eight red coats who had been preparing the first wagons.
“Keep covering fire on the bl**dy trees! Fire in relays so that we can secure the Ladies.” Yelled Freddy. He knew that was perhaps not the correct term for the Orc ‘Seamstresses’ but it was the best he could come up with at the moment. Freddy turned to Algernon “What about your raspberry pantalooned b*****d fairies?”
Before Algernon could answer Dickie sneered, “Gone to ground, I’m not even sure their Flintloques were loaded and now their new red trousers will be all dirty.”
“Shut the **** up Dickie!” was Freddy’s return. He turned to face Algernon. “What action have you and your Orcs seen?”
Algernon’s reply was as Freddy expected and what Dickie already knew. “We have only this month arrived from fair Albion and this is the first time we have seen or heard and gunfire.”
“****ing Great!” grunted Freddy.
In the next lull Freddy began organising the recourses under his control. The eight Red Coats were split into two groups, four instructed to check on the screaming She-Orcs. In fact the exact order went something like.
“Get those Wailing Banshees behind some cover and if they don’t stop screaming – you have my permission to give them a ****ing good slap.”
Then directing his next command to the Quartermaster and his remaining four Red Coats, said. “You – Get behind your wagons and keep ****ing shooting at those trees.”
Just as things were looking as if they might come under control there were more shots and this time from some rough cover to the left.
The Dwarf Viragio grumbled some Krautian swear words and spoke to Freddy while pointing to the latest threat.
“What the bl**dy **** is going on here?” shouted Freddy as even more shots rained down on the small group.
Note; The Provost Corps were officially uniformed in red jackets and red trousers with two dark blue stripes down each leg. The nickname – ‘Raspberry Ripples’ was one commonly used for these military police throughout the Army of the Grande Alliance.
Can our Freddy get out of this scrape without causing too many casualties or is the planned court marshal at Badajobz the least of his worries?
At least Freddy can rely on Dicky and Viragio – even if he does have to shout at the deaf old bugger to be understood.
First the prisoners;
Foul Mouth Freddy
Veteran Orc Regular
Armed with an Orc Bessie Musket.
Skill: Loud and Foul Mouth - Freddy has a coarse tongue and uses it often and well, In melee all mortal enemies suffer a -2 to their melee roll when fighting him. Undead are however unaffected.
Trait: Daisy Roots – Due to the size of his large previously-owned-by-an-Ogre boots Freddy gets +1 Impact when he wins in melee.
Flaw: Sauce (Flintloque: WIC, p.54)
Experienced Orc Regular
Dickie is very much like Freddy but perhaps a little quieter and one of the best ‘acquirers’ in the whole army of Albion. (Note; for acquirer read thief – but don’t say that to his face).
Skill: Don’t Ask – Dickie has the ability to find pretty much anything given half a chance. Before any game choose any standard weapon that can be carried by one Orc. Roll 1D10. On a roll of 1-3 Dickie has managed to aquire that weapon (if a firearms, he has also obtained 1D10 rounds). [Note; as Dickie started this scenario as a prisoner the change is decreased to a roll of 1. Just don’t ask where he hid it…]
Viragio the Deaf Olde Dwarf
Veteran Dwarf Regular
Like a loyal puppy, actually nothing like a puppy. More like a loyal ragging boar.
Armed with pistol and knife he had concealed in his beard.
Skill: Brawler (Flintloque: WIC, p.52)
The Provost Corps in their smart raspberry and blueberry coloured uniforms;
Algeron, Captain Provost Corps
Raw Orc Regular
So very novice, so very raw, so very green and so very useless – you get the picture.
Armed with a beautifully crafted but never used Exquisite Sword and an antique standard pistol.
Bertie, (another) Provost Captain
Raw Orc Regualr
Armed with a Standard Carbine and a sword.
Jeaves, (yet another) Provost Captain
Raw Orc Regular
Armed with an Orc Bessie Musket and sword.
Dwayne, (you guessed it, another) Provost Captain
Raw Orc Regular
Armed with a standard Carbine and sword.
None of these ‘chin-less wonders’ have actually started shaving yet.
Note; The Provost Corps consists of Officers and NCO’s only.
The Quartermaster and his troops;
Larry the Quartermaster
Average Orc Regular
A middle-aged over weight pen-pusher.
Flaw: Annoying Moaning B*****d - Larry is one of those characters who just love to moan, he will moan about anything and everything, the weather, his paperwork, his food rations, his piles, the people he works with, the people he doesn’t work with, etc. etc. etc.
The first time Larry gets within 4inches of Freddy roll a D3. (One role per game/scenario only).
1 = No effect and Freddy is able to dodge Larry and get on with protecting the group.
2 = Freddy is unable to get away from Larry and will not be able to perform any other action for one whole turn – he just has to stand there and listen to the latest stories of woe.
3 = Freddy has really drawn the short straw and for three whole turns he is just not able to get away from Larry. He can perform no other task – just stand there and listen to the latest moan!
Larry has a wooden leg and carries a sergeant’s pike which he uses as a crutch and to direct the Red Coats under his command. As such he receives the Flaw ‘Bad Knees’ despite their only being one that gives him gip.
8 Red Coats, all Orc Regulars. 7 are Raw but 1 is a bit of a surprise - an experienced soldier with extensive military knowledge and abilities called Ditto (a not-to-original nickname as Ditto was named after his father, hence Ditto).
All armed with Orc Bessie Muskets with bayonets.
All Orcs should roll for Magicke abilities as normal. Ditto gets to roll for skills too !
Three She-Orcs, ladies of negotiable virtue who accompany the regiment to administer that much-missed ‘Woman’s touch’. They might scream and holler, being Average Civilians but in a tight scrape they are quite able to look out for themselves.
They are all Armed with various knitting needles, hat pins and nail clippers which count as small improvised weapons.
Veteran Dark Elf Guerrilla
The leader and charismatic commander of his rag tag group.
Armed with a Catalucian Blunderbuss and numerous throwing knives (six in fact).
Experienced Dark Elf Guerrilla
Second in command
Armed with a Standard Musket and a huge knife (counts as a Sword).
Experienced Dark Elf Guerrilla
Third in command
Armed with a Standard Musket and a knife.
18 Various Guerrillas/Deserters all armed with Standard Muskets (80% chance) or purloined Ferach Carbines (20% chance) and knives, some even have a pistol or two (10% and 5% chance respectively).
There is nothing special about the camp; just a standard military encampment after the regiment has left. Some tents – a smouldering fire or two, a stack of olde guns and barrels or cases of rotten food and brandy.
The camp contains the three prisoners, their escort, the seamstresses, the old quartermaster and his company of Orcs plus two wagons pulled by a couple of small highland ponies.
Use a four foot square table with the camp to the centre, trees to the West and hard cover to the South. Also take turns to place additional cover, but not too much, just enough to make the table look pretty.
The loot should be evenly spread across the whole table.
Freddy and the Orcs – Freddy and two other prisoners were about to be transported to Badajobz. The Provost Corps had been ordered to deliver them to Olde Nosey, The Duke of Wheeling-turn for Court Marshal. The charges are numerous, but see the Scours, Speed and Sneaks mini-campaign for some idea.
Having taken command Freddy’s objective is to maintain control – do not loose any stores. Particularly the barrels of Brandy and the She-Orcs.
If Freddy can save Algernon then his Mother will ensure that all charges are dropped against Freddy and the two other prisoners (after all she is a sister-in-law to Sim-San).
If Algernon is killed or wounded (even a small wound) Freddy will be in deep **** and military court marshal will be the least of his worries as Sim-San will ensure his life in the army of Abion is pure HELL for the rest of his military career.
If the She-Orcs are captured – Freddy will feel the wrath of all within the 69th after all they are the only female company available to the whole regiment of love-starved Red Coats.
Guerrillas – The attackers are some desperate guerrillas or even perhaps deserters who are looking for three things. Food, Drink and Women. They think the camp will be easy pickings – they have not counted on Foul Mouth Freddy.
Their objective is to escape with as much loot as possible – particularly, food, barrels of brandy and women.
The guerrillas need to exit the board with the loot, Freddy has to stop them.
I had thought about awarding each of the pieces of loot a number of loot points – for example; She-Orcs 3 points each, Barrels of Brandy 2 points each and food 1 point each.
At the end of 10/12 game turns as the regiment returns, the total points should be added up and the one with the highest total awarded victory in the game. It is possible that the Guerrillas could have a moral victory even if they do not win a complete points victory, as a barrel of brandy is almost as warming on a cold Catalunia night as a ravenous She-Orc!
You may also like to limit the amount of ammunition that the Guerrillas have, after all they are not as well stocked as our stout Red Coats.
There could also be points for killing Guerrillas or points for injuring/wounding Algernon (try 8 points for Algernon’s death) – that should liven up any tally.
As we all know – Freddy cannot be killed, but he can be injured – there are many more adventures awaiting our Freddy!
An Orcs in the Webbe Original! "Foul Mouth Freddy Takes ****ing Charge" was written exclusively for Orcs in the Webbe's 2011 Advent Calendar and was first published on Wednesday 14th December 2011.
Foul Mouth Freddy Will Return*
* Even if he got shot to bits, Freddy's lucky like that...