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Campaign 2 Session 3 White Hounds Holocaust Dante covets a motorhome: Part 1


Cath has again written up last thursdays session of White hounds holocaust the tenerife set post apocalyptic game with our eastern coast party (campaign 2.)

As we make our way up the road to the rendez-vous with The Disco Kid we meet a woman in a poncho. She is armed, may be dangerous, and sounds German. We learn that her name is Hannie. She has come from the Interior – wherever that is – quite coincidentally, in search of the gold at Las Calatillas. Fate has flung us together so she agrees to collaborate with us to stop The Disco Kid from getting his greasy paws on the gold.

Hannie Kessler


As we move forward with a shared objective, Roy spies some figures in the distance with bows and arrows trained on us.


Hannie immediately drops to the ground and takes aim. This could be what good looks like. We clearly have a lot to learn from her.

Roy steps up into a Tory power stance and shouts fiercely at them.

As they bravely run away, Hannie shoots and one goes down. When we reach him he tells us he is Bulgarian orphan, and that he and his friends are just looking for people to rob on the road in order to feed themselves. Filled with remorse, we decide to adopt him into our community. He limps off, spurred on by some great gags from Roy.


Up ahead we see 6 motorhomes under a bridge. There are men in shorts close by and as we take a closer look we see that the tops of the motorhomes are up. Weapons protrude.


We consider our options – at length. Dante really wants to capture a motorhome which we all agree would be tremendous. We strategise about the possibilities of casting missiles or even molatov cocktails from the top of the bridge into the open roofs of the motorhomes, but have no decent sized bolders, nothing flammable and only one plastic bottle.


Disappointingly we have no option but to sneak past. As we attempt this Dante is spotted looking longingly at the motorhomes. In the heat of the moment we decide to hide in plain sight as a group of morris dancers out for a bit of a practice, and break out our well rehearsed routine. Unfortunately we fail to convince anyone, and the Caravan Club gives chase.


We leg it into a courtyard and through some gardens and manage to give them the slip. We end up on the TF 28 to Las Calatillas which is, at least, where we wanted to be. We come across a legacy cement mixing truck which we all agree we would love to weaponise against the Caravan Club. It has no fuel, but we do find the manual in the cabin, so that’s helpful.


We head to a nearby bar Agricola for a bit of scavenging. At last, something we are all good at.


Our haul is as follows:

Roy – 38 revolver, 34 padded envelopes and 8 cans of sardines

Babs – a coffee percolator, 3 small metal hooks, and a liraglutide pen

Dante- a recycling bin, 1 gallon of concentrated cleaner/degreaser, and 5 mouse traps

Frankie – 2 bottles of Irish Whiskey, a ceramic cookie jar, and 8 magic mushrooms

Patty- 3 pairs of tinsnips

Hannie – 3 bottles of bourbon


We can wreak some serious havoc with that

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