Our next Kickstarter, for a Feudal Guard Command Unit, goes live in a week! Get some Dutch courage/stiff upper lip in your army: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/59400193/feudal-guardsmen-command-unit
Drawn from a world which has regressed to feudalism and pressed into service against a galaxy of unknowable horrors, these officers do not let a nightmarish battle spoil a fine brandy. They are equipped with the finest arms and armour the artisans of their paradoxically sci-fi feudal world can produce. However, as they are also equipped with beverages of comparable quality, all they really need is their stiff upper-lips and an inordinate amount of luck.Proving the saying that ‘Officers don’t duck’, the command figures are sculpted nonchalantly enjoying their drinks amidst the clamour of battle, resolutely refusing to be perturbed by incoming artillery fire. Their attending command staff, being possessed of either a dearth of blue-blood or a surfeit of common sense, are instead balancing their duties of serving drinks and taking cover. Which is no mean feat.
Clad in a regal cloak of office and festooned in military finery, the commander is posed gesticulating authoritatively at the charts borne by the adjutant. His elaborate basket hilted blade can be seen protruding from beneath his cloak as can the cybernetics which feed his ocular implant. His is armed with a heavy glass of VSOP.
Arrogant but able, the company champion’s rank fits into so obscure a position within the company hierarchy as to allow him to shirk most duties, short of felling challengers of the Commander in the ritualistic combat peculiar to their feudal culture. Clad in the most finely wrought armour available and obsessively trained in swordsmanship, he is well equipped to do so. When not slouching on it, he wields a massive Zweihander and is also equipped with an almond liqueur.
The forward observer stands astride his communicator, with which he relays targeting information to the artillery. He has no intention of getting close enough to the action to be in any real peril so, has eschewed armour for the dapper finery of his dress uniform.
The long suffering adjutant’s role is ostensibly that of an administrator but, when not bearing scrolled charts or coordinating communications, he invariably finds himself carrying the needlessly ornate drinks table, behind which he is currently taking cover.
Sequestered from the StormTrooper regiment, the honour guard’s role is lauded as a coveted martial position, but generally entails being an glorified waiter. His armour has been customised with a refrigeration unit, linked by cable to the tray he bears, to ensure that Officers’ drinks are served at optimal temperature. A successful honour guard must learn to dive for cover without spilling his drinks.