Frostgrave Vandred game 7 - cloudy with a chance of plague later.
Well, that was one way to start the day. We were moving through the forests of Stirland towards yet another human village when the air started to turn thick and fever-hot. The drone of big fat flies was the first clue. Then came that greasy, dead-in-your-mouth taste that told us something was very wrong. By the time we got close enough to smell it properly, we knew we weren’t dealing with your average bandit problem. The village was absolutely crawling with Plague Bearers. Here’s the warband for this one — Vandred and his merry band of chaotic worshippers, all ready for a lovely afternoon stroll through pestilence. The Prologue Three warbands converging on the same stinking village: Alan with his witch hunters, George and his Skaven, and me bringing up the rear with Vandred’s crew. Traditional Tailby style meant I came third in the initiative roll, so I got to sit there politely while everyone else started the party. Alan started laying down walls of Fog like some desperate fenci...
