There is weird and strange out on the edges of the Prydian Precinct and it falls to some of the less famous and smaller Companies to police these places. Sometimes with great results and sometimes not so great results. The fate of the Fauconbergs Raiders at Govian Prime was something worse. The Florians abound. Created by and written for you by Aris Kolehmainen they are his notion of an exotic force in Patrol Angis and this is their story.
You can download this article as a PDF from our Drop Box by clicking HERE.
The Prydian Precinct
13 Fauconbergs Raiders
A letter to the Princess Cyon, marked “Urgent // For Her Majesty's Eyes Only”
As requested, I have delved into the archives, as well as compiled reports of what is being spoken of among your forces, in light of recent events, as “Fauconbergs raiders”.
In brief; reports of the “Raiders” have been cropping up infrequently throughout known space. These encounters are, at this time, seemingly random. I should also make note that many of these sightings have some sort of, dare I say, “supernatural” element to them. It is my further belief that most of these “odd” happenings may be some ancient technology long forgotten, or perhaps merely illusions built from the stress of being on the front lines in times like these. We should not give ourselves into superstition and 'magical tales' so quickly.
I present to you this report of the most recent encounter with the Raiders which has hence given them their namesake. A general overview of what happened in the nearly two weeks that Govian Prime went off the grid has been compiled below from a variety physical of evidence.
The world of Govian Prime is settled well in the heart of the League of Canlaster, a tranquil planet of lush jungles, shallow blue pools, and warm days. A dense iron core meant that the magnetic field of the planet was strong enough to repel most of all the radiation from it’s local star meaning long sunny days, and a stunted evolution of native species (all of which were quickly overtaken by more agreeable fauna and flora). Set so far away from the civil war, and so deep in its home territory, It was an ideal pleasure world.
On a day in mid-Autumn, patrons of the the pleasure planet noted that the sky seemed unusually dark, and the temperature had cooled somewhat. For twelve days, the sky became progressively darker, and the air cooler. Animals seemed to go into hiding, and the trees began to change from lush green to oranges and reds before all leaves turned brown and fell to the ground. Many of those dwelling on the world became concerned and attempted to contact the local League garrison, but to their dismay it seemed that all communications off world had been cut off.
It is from the words of the Baron James Fauconberg, that we are able to somewhat piece together some semblance of what happened. The following account was transcribed from a data-pad located in the crumbled husk of a building, (we assume the Baron's Palace) which we were able to smuggle off-world [Report: CMO-00251.1_X].
Though not my place to assume such things, Your Grace may find this disturbing.
It has been thirteen days since the atmospheric disturbances. This morning we noticed the glow from what once was the lush and beautiful Hovold Jungle, though now it reminds me more of a boneyard. Just grey-brown skeletons of what were once beautiful trees. There is a smell in the air, a spiciness I can’t quite place. I see in those woods some large, orange plants, I don’t recall them from yesterday. Will send a group to investigate later. Too much piled on my desk for too early in the morning.
Guests report laughter from somewhere, like women cackling at them. They are disturbed, but so far “it is only the stress of this oddness getting to you” has seemed to settle many minds, or at least shut them up.
I hear it too. Where is it coming from. And that smell?
An explosion was reported at Sector 148, no casualties reported, but we also haven’t been able to enable any form of contact with the sector. The laughter is getting more frequent, it seems to come from the walls itself. Women cackling, men bellowing, it’s as if I am being mocked by unseen critics. I will have none of it, whoever is pulling this prank will pay dearly for this.
Staff have reported the orange growths in the wood have begun to move. I don’t understand, but I’ve told all staff to form into their militia groups, and have sent patrons to their quarters.
The glow is getting brighter out there, that sickly green. What is in those woods?
I have received reports from across Govian Prime that militias have formed, and ISV’s and coat vehicles are at 70% activated. I too have armed myself. My father’s pistol, it served him well.
Truth be told, I have never lead men in combat before, and I still pray I won’t have to.
[Instant of static, possibly laughter, a whispering voice is barely audible]
Why won’t they show themselves?
[Similar static/laughter, louder]
DO NOT MOCK ME [Pistol fired, once].
No... No. I must get hold of myself
By the throne…
[chittering and sloshing noises]
Oh by the throne…
[Pistol fire followed by a wet pop. This repeats four more times, estimated five successful kills]
They’re like… sentient plants, great orange globes with glowing eyes and twisted mouths… They killed my clerk. Their arms seem to shoot some kind of thorns but they only seem lethal at very close range, but they…
[sound of vomiting]
They seem to have swarmed him, he’s… he looks rotted. What have they done…? I need to leave. Need to escape.
[explosion in distance, very clear feminine laughter from distance.]
(Whispering) Go away…
[Female voice, unable to make out words spoken]
(Whispering) Couldn’t make it out, more of those orange plant things, women in armor with tall hats, they guided them told them where to go, what to do. They obeyed, obeyed like a well-trained dog.
[Something crashes to the ground, wood splinters]
They’re getting close, they overran the militia, they projected the screams of the dying back though our communicators along with the laughter [something shatters].
One clip left, going to
[female cackles/laughter, voice heard faintly in background, “My Lord Baron”. Deep male voice replies unable to make out the words]
try and fend them off, will leave this pad recording.
[Yelling and a single shot fired, clatter noise, assumed that at this point the Fauconberg has dropped his pistol]
(Whimpering) No no no no no… don’t… don’t… what do you want? Who.. What… What are you?
[there is a wet chop and the sound of a man screaming]
(Masculine voice, gravely, seems to resonate) Horror… everlasting...
[There is a loud cracking noise and recording ends]
For the last three years, we have received reports of raids similar to that of Fauconbergs Raiders, going by different names depending on garrison, (the 11th Salvide reported a “Legion of Terror”, the Prydian 44th stated a brief skirmish with “Wytches” and their army of sentient plant soldiers, and going back in the record, we find numerous tales of the “Damned” or “Geist” Legion).
One connecting factor is that all reports note that the leader is apparently a man of some impressive build in antiquated Alwite armor that is rent and damaged, and a skeletal visage.
[Note: The reports says that the armor is worn by a living skeleton, but that seems frankly outlandish]
I will update your Highness further as more information comes to light, but for now, we must remain vigilant as always.
Forever in your service,
- Hal Donavain, Grand Archivist
I have used IAF016 Retained Post Delta and IAF030 Duxis Battlesuits as well as monthly free miniatures for this force. They were then converted as you can see.
Fielding this Force in Patrol Angis
The raiders play hard on psychological warfare, and so should you! Fauconbergs Raiders play on fear, and forcing your opponent to reevaluate their strategy every single turn. You can turn the tide of a game with well placed Minstrel shot, keep that opposing close combat unit from getting too close, or even scare them right off the board!
Wytches and the Undead. Fauconbergs
Raiders MUST utilize the following rules:
- Any demi/squad/fire team/etc. with support weapons must use at least one Minstrel Taser or Pardoner Flame Projector
- All infantry units must be lead by a single Banneret with the Mystic ability. The Banneret is not restricted to the above rule for special weapons
- Callsign Taranis: Units that have the ability to, must take Blinding Light Rounds
These small considerations aside, you have no force restrictions. Every unit that was slain or captured, finds new service in the Raiders. This is a great opportunity for simple concepts like “zombie militia” or an all female unit of “Retained Wytches”. When I was coming up with conversions for my own army, it was even suggested I could do a “Headless Horseman” by simply decapitating one of my Khamels and adding some flames to the model, (I’m tempted).
To put it simply: If it feels like something you would see on Halloween night, then you’re on the right path.
The Ion Age provides some great one-off’s that fit this theme in their Yearly Collections, such as Year One’s “The Knight of the Dead” (who is the perfect mini to represent the Phantom Baron). I personally love Year Three’s Florian Pumpkin Spore. The arms are easily poseable, and they make for a great replacement for close combat centred infantry.
You may have noticed the number heading this article. This ties to the uniform reference on our Uniforms of the Prydian Precinct Poster which shows in detail thirty different uniforms of troops. See it HERE.
This concludes the introduction to the Fauconbergs Raiders and we hope you enjoyed it and are inspired to take your place in the wars raging across the Prydian Precinct.
Thanks for Reading,