Iceland

Day 1, Monday 14th April 2014, in Reykjavic,  Iceland.

Everything about this place seems just a little...off. A little strange, but so subtly odd you have to do a double take.

After arriving at the airport, my brother Oli and I masterfully maneuvered ourselves from the airplane back to departure gates before being told we need to go to arrivals. In England of course, the two are so separate that such a mistake isn't even possible.

Once on a transfer to the city, we realised how small the place is. Of an island with 300,000 odd people, the capital hosts 100, 000 of them. This was evident in the bus being able to offer us drop offs at each passenger's hotel. Not a bad thing.

The hotel was comfortable, welcoming and clean. We left it immediately to venture into town, finding a classy steakhouse (which did square burgers), and seeing a variety of very odd architecture. One thing was clear: if there was such a thing as planning permission, the planners either had no clue or didn't give a shit. There seems close to no conformity and...I guess it's charming, unique and varied, but it also looks a bit lame.

After a boozy lunch we ventured further, underestimating the scale on the map and burning through our leathered brogues. Looking smart was a poor substitute for hiking boots.

However we finally found a museum Oli was keen to see and where we got to dress up. Not in drag either. The chain mail was so heavy I needed help dressing, and the head piece left me with possible skull damage!

Finally after a coffee and a bit more mooching, we got a bus back to the hotel. Now, I'll leave it at that, but let's just say we made a massive meal of a simple bus journey!

Two impressions so far:
1) there is an awesome view of snowy mountains nearly wherever you are in the city.

2) the hot water smells so bad of rotten eggs due to the sulphur in the water.

The Righteous and The Damned

Crossing the mountainous passage of the Helmsted Heights, the hordes of Heldante were as constant as the rising and setting of the sun.

Blocking this relentless tide waited the righteous knights of Breton,  their faith in their gods and in their prophetess the only thing that kept them from feeling the on coming mass of death.

As the battle waged on, a mighty pillow fight began in the center of the field. This lasted 2 turns with few on either side dying and a draw was called.

Battle for Belgar Pass

The Winds of Magic raged rampant and raw this battle, drawn in and coerced by the will of the Vampire Lords, but the dwarves were stalwart, determined and as stubborn as ever. They spat in the eye of fear that would leave normal men crippled and withering.

Turn 1: the VC began, vanguarding up 3 units of 10 dire wolves. The Black Knights, led by their lords, marched up and the remainders shuffled after.

The dwarves held, and their cannons thundered. Most missed their mark, but one tore off the head of the Vargulf.

Turn 2-3: the dire wolves slammed into the war machines and the black knights prepared for a charge.

Soon they were into the horde of dwarves, who fled and were cut down. Riding over their corpses into the second unit of dwarves, the battle was called.