56533-U Blacke Watchit

42ND HIGHLANDERS THE ‘BLACKE WATCHIT’

These infamous rodent warriors of northern Joccia have been included in every military campaign with the armies of Albion since the formation of Great Britorcn. Indeed during the ’45 Rebellion the Rats of the 42nd sided with the Orcs of Albion and not their kinsmen. And for this, and their predominant fur colour, they were hailed as the ‘Black Watchit’ as those they pursued scurried for hiding places on their approach.

Background in the World of Valon

One of the most infamous regiments of Foote in the whole Britorcn Army the 42nd Highlanders have seen action almost everywhere ‘bessie’ has fired in anger. The favourite battalions of Surjon Moore the troops of the ‘Furty Twa’ as Joccians hail them fought not only in Aegypt but in South Amerka and the in Great Rebellion before going to Al-Garvey and on to Catalucia.

The finest soldiers in the Blacke Watchit, their official ‘nickname’ given to them by Orseguards after the 45’ Rebellion, were chosen to be the personal guard of Surjon during the retreat to Korunna. Indeed on that tragic day they fought bitter hard and even carried the mortally wounded General from the field.

Currently serving alongside Orcish regiments such as the 105th Rifles and the 50th Foote in Catalucia the 42nd bear a terrible weight of glory and sorrow. Alongside numerous battle honours they burn for revenge on the Ferach and all their Empire.


Uniform Details

The uniform of the 42nd consists of a red tunic, a tartan kilt, red and white checked socks, black shoes with grey gaiters, and a tall black feather bonnet with a red plume. Facing colours (collars, etc.) are dark blue and gold. Equipment is black and equipment straps are white leather. Officers carry Claymores and wear light red sashes.


Flintloque Stats


In Flintloque a normal Blacke Watchit soldier is treated as follows;

A Highland Rat of Average / Regular status armed with a Bessie Musket and a bayonet. Points Cost is 25 Points.

Officers also carry a sword and a standard pistol as well and are often of Experienced / Regular status. Adjust point accordingly. Standard Bearers carry a pole which count as lance, musicians carry a drum which counts as a small improvised weapon.


Slaughterloo Stats

In Slaughterloo the Blacke Watchit are treated as follows;

STATUS: The 42nd Highland Rats are classed as Regular Infantry armed with Orc Bessies.

Statistics for this Unit can be seen in the Slaughterloo Stats booklet or in New Releases 13 2008 PDF upon request.


With a sickening crack a musket ball impacted with the baked dry wall of the crumbling house. Private McSweet ducked back from his hastily found vantage point. Uttering a startled Joccian curse the private checked the lock on his own musket and made sure it was correctly loaded. The day had been long already and here in the small scattering of houses that made up the village of Elvino, which sat astride the road into the port, the battle of Kooruna might well be decided. He who held the village held the gates to the docks and the embarking Orcish army’s chances of escape.

Despite two Elvish attempts by the Ferach voltiguers to push the battalion of the Orcs out of the village the valiant dirty half hundred, the 50th Foote, were vice like in the houses with a death grip that would take more muscle to shift. That muscle had arrived just before the sun reached its zenith in the form of the 57eme de Ligne, two thousand Elves marching behind beating drums in a great column. The column would smash the village and sweep the Orcs from their positions.

Seeing the danger Surjon Moore, commander of the army, had dispatched the 42nd Foote, the Blacke Watchit, under the direct command of General Davie McBaird down the gentle slope from Kooruna to shore up the Orcish efforts in the threatened village. With bagpipes playing and their sporron’s jangling against their kilts the seven hundred Highland Rats led by an infamous commander had arrived just in time to take up places around the villages houses which the 50th Foote had garrisoned.

Whole companies of the ‘Furty Twa’ drew themselves up in gaps between houses and in the open road before the outermost village dwellings. With General McBaird at their fore the order to level their muskets had been given and along with every Orc and Rat who could gain a shooting place they prepared to give fire. At just under a hundred yards the Elven column, which was now shaking the very ground, was within range. Raising his bejewelled sword the General brought it down with a dramatic sweep of his arm and hundreds of Bessie muskets blasted their leaden death at the Elves. Twice more the muskets fired and the column died in droves, but it kept coming.

McSweet had stood in the line of his own company, the third company, and fired when ordered. He had then broken ranks and positioned himself behind the baked dry wall to await the imminent Elf attack. The musket ball which had impacted against the wall next to McSweet was the beginning of this attack, the Elvish ‘Chardy’ muskets making a higher pitched bang than his own Bessie had given that away. With his musket checked and using the back of one furred paw to wipe the white lime dust from his whiskers the Blacke Watchit private cocked his weapon.

The first Elf around the corner of the crumbling house was a private like himself, his pack of turned out horsehair had a loaf of bread on it, and his graceful features went from a look of typical Ferach arrogance to one of deadly fear when he saw McSweet. That look was his last as the Bessie musket banged and the ball took the Elf in the upper chest. As he fell clutching at shattered ribs, two more Elves rounded the house and raised their muskets on the Joccian. Both of them fired as one, aiming straight for McSweet intent on killing him and moving on.

It is not often that fortune smiles on a lowly soldier, and if you believed the Joccians it never does, but this day McSweet was one lucky Rat. One ball passed through his kilt and between his furred legs and the other struck the stock of his musket knocking it from his hands. Astounded the Elves advanced on McSweet now with the goal of clubbing him down. They did not get a chance.

A huge shadow fell across the two Elves and as they turned to look at what has cast it they were both caught by two mighty hands that lifted them from the ground and smashed both their heads together, leaving them slumped and bloody on the dirt. McSweet, still in shock from near death, did not move as General Davie McBaird brushed his hands on his own kilt and then handed a musket to the shaking private. Daintily the General pulled a triangular iron bayonet from its sheath and handed both it and the musket to McSweet. He spoke;

‘Ye, hud better fix yer bayonet laddie, yer gonnie need ta use it!’