Until I settle on a theme for the THC game (This week the theme shortlist shrunk to just two candidates) my Chief Foxer Setter turned Senior Researcher /Lead Scenario Designer doesn’t have a great deal to do, hence the following foxer.
While the swarm of Balkenkreuze in the above image is just the little joke of a mischievous GM, the blocky tank with the question mark on its turret is not. Five seconds after Turn 23 gets underway, Allied units (presumably Costner’s GIs) hear what sounds like an MBT approaching from the east. After manifesting, this grey eminence…
A is for Alphabetised wargame, sim, and site news. Now and again, assuming I can persuade Austerity’s Blackburn Cirrus Bombardier engine to perform the miracle of internal combustion, I spend a few days scouring Simulatia and Grognardia for stories with the potential to fascinate, startle, cheer, dismay or amuse. Those stories are then dehydrated, alphabetised and delivered, via articles like this one, to people who’ve got better things to do than plough through puff and platitudes.
I couldn’t decide which ‘B word’ screenshot to lead with today so have provided three. The first is a nod to the Comment Commanders’ tardy taxi. The ponderous Churchill VIII finally delivered its passengers – Sergeant Forester’s squad – this turn!
Every Friday, Tally-Ho Corner’s cleverest clogs come together to solve a ‘foxer’ handcrafted by my sadistic chum and colleague, Roman. A complete ‘defoxing’ sometimes takes several days and usually involves the little grey cells of many readers. All are welcome to participate.
During the course of Turn 21, the German arsonist in the woods north of the castle, is fired on by five different Allied units. Miraculously, not one of the incoming rounds hits flesh or Flammöl 19.
Using the following clues (the map above is purely decorative) in combination with Street View, work out my location.
Thanks to the magic of PC gaming, although I’ve not left England this week most of my evenings have been spent North of the Border. Read on for fulsome praise of two Scotland-steeped playthings, and faint praise of a third.