The Demise of Namblo the Clown

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Rules set: Skank

Miniatures: The Mutants, The Kriegs, Assorted Wasteland Figures, Various Military Units

Setting: An unnamed wasteland settlement in the world of Fallout


Trust Namblo to get out of that net we drew around Junktown. But we tracked him. He's a slippery one, true, but he leaves a wide trail. Hard to hide when you're the kind of person who curdles normal mens' gall. Sometimes all we had to go on was a trail of bodies. But finally we found him, way out in the far sands, gone to ground with some of the mutants and human scum that'd serve something like him. After that there was nothing left but to roll in the troops. Payback time.

The sun was high in the sky when we arrived. We were sweating like hogs, hard to keep up any sort of effort in that heat. But it paid off. Take a look - there's almost nobody out. The ones that are, are just kind of hunched over bearing it, not keeping any sort of watch. I think they were as surprised as us that anyone would try something so crazy as a noonday attack. Heat of the day - everyone's inside
We spotted these four freaks not only outside, but standing around a barrel of burning cactus stumps. Never can tell with mutants, their metabolisms get so screwed up. Probably why they don't tend to live so long. I figured today maybe we'd help these wierdos live even shorter. Cold?!?  ... freaks ...
The guy in the captain's hat was just sitting on that godawful-ugly couch jawing with his buddies as we came creeping up. Was he supposed to be on watch? Shoulda seen him jump when the bullets started flying! Captain of the Couch
We waited for the signal, then all opened up at the same time. You can see a couple of fires touching off from where we chucked grenades into the huts. Those sentries you see on the ground only got a few shots off. But one or two connected. Battle's deadly serious business, I tell you. There's plenty of folks like me who'll do it, and who ain't afraid to do it. That's part of being adult. Not willing to risk your life when it counts, you're still a kid, no matter how old you are. But anyone tells you they like it, they're either a liar, or crazy. And the crazies you gotta frag off, 'fore they get you killed. First Blood!
Someone called in range on those freakazoids around the burn-barrel, and we put a mortar bomb practically in their laps. We might have got more than we bargained for if those fuel drums went up. Turned out to be empties, though. The Freaks Go Down
Things got serious in a hurry over on the Eastern side of the village. Guess those muties had a big old auto-grenade-launcher squirreled away in one of the huts. They opened up, took out one of our humvees straight off. Multiple shots on target, at least one in the cabin, all the ammo started cooking off. Fuel tank too, I think, once everything else was on fire. Can't hardly see it in this pic through all the smoke. Trouble on the East Line
Then all hell broke loose on the West end of our Southern flank. We were counter-ambushed! Before we knew it, a whole passel of Krieg mercenaries came rolling over the dunes from outside of town. Don't know if they were patrolling, or waiting for us, or just doing pervert-stuff out behind the cactus, but they got the drop on us right good. Slagged a bunch of good men. But the guys managed to toss grenades in two of the trucks even while they were getting shot full of holes. They hadn't done that, those punk-arse mercs would have rolled right up our flank, done God knows how much damage. The Kriegs
Half the town is on fire by this point. We broke through the perimeter, slagged a good lot of them until we could walk on in among the buildings. Knew we were close to flushing Namblo, 'cause he was running out of places to hide. The Town Begins to Cave
First thing I saw was all these women in rags running out of this old corregated building like the devil was after them. Namblo's concubines, we figured out later. Guess he decided to run for it, sent them out a different exit to distract us with targets. One of the recruits saw him going, tried to call in a mortar-bomb on his head. But the kid did it too fast, mixed up a range estimate somewhere. Put it right on top of the women. Killed every last one of them, he did. Ask me about moments that turned my stomach that day ... well, that was one of two. Mistakes are Deadly

The other one was this. Well, I didn't see this until after the battle, but the picture's worth a thousand words, ain't it? Namblo always liked children, always kept them around. Thing is, with his amped-up mutie mind, he could mesmerize 'em, make 'em do whatever sick thing he wanted. While we were busy mortaring a bunch of unarmed women, he hand these kids marching lockstep around him, standing in the way of anyone that wanted to shoot. If he'd just killed them himself it would have been easier to take. But, I mean, we couldn't just let him walk. Not and have to go through this all over again. ...

He was wearing some sort of powered armor. Took a burst of nine mils and didn't even break stride. None of the kids survived it.

The Children ...

That armor couldn't stop a big fifty, though. The APC in the pic had already taken a serious hit, but the driver kept it together long enough to run the bastard down. That's what it really comes down to. Keeping it together when things turn crappy. Guess we all kept it together that day, mostly. Well enough to pull through. Now there's one less monster in the world, and I'm not ashamed to say I feel pretty good about that.

Now I'm ready to head home, hang the rifle back over the mantle. Hope I can leave it there for awhile.

One Less Monster in the World

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