Battle Report: The Bridge Over the River Chai - Turn 5

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Turn 5 (you are here)

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Epilogue

Turn 5

Turn 5 seems to be characterised by running.

Some units are running to get into combat. Some units are running to get out of combat. Some units are running just because other units are running.

Lots of running, then.

Don't be alarmed, bloodthirsty audience! There is still your fair share of stabbing, chopping and clubbing. And fireballs. Creatures have died in this turn. We've got that covered.

The turn starts like this

Movement Phase

Master B'tor, high on the adrenaline that only comes from wholesale slaughter, charges down the rocky hillside to have at the dwarves. His erstwhile companion, Seaman Sprayes, cannot make the 'gig' this time, as he is on foot.

Wineghum drinks deeply of his newly prepared K'fe, infusing his drug addled brain with the awesome power of the rare and powerful K'fe bean. In so doing, he boosts his undead minions, granting each of them an extra wound! Thus prepared, he orders them to charge the dwarves.

Nico Teehn and his boys, believing themselves to have satisfied their contract (to shoot at orcs, one supposes), continue to flee the carnage caused by Kibarkid's 3rd Company of Fine Spear.

The orc line, now clearly in the business of running relays as they change direction more times than a shoal of fish surrounded by killer whales, scatter to escape the wrath of Meedy Ochre, who is now short of targets as Kalpol's lot flee the field.

And...amidst the confusion, Rogaine forces his Grunta's to go back into the battle, this time moving behind the orc line, no doubt preparing for some sneaky outflanking manoeuvre!

Actions

GM:

WLH

Routed off the table

Airbornegrove:

I

Charged @ S2, wheeled right 1", moved forward 4"

MF

Routed forward 7"

MO

Reformed

F

Moved forward 3", holds

Thantsants:

S2

Holds

MB

Charged @ F, moved 13"

S1

Charged @ I, wheeled 1" left, moved forward 3", lost charge bonus

CGC

Routed forward 7"

SBB

Routed forward 7"

KYP

Routed off the table

WoP

Moved forward 5"

SQC

Wheeled right 2", moved forward 2"

SOC

Moved forward 5"

RGH

Wheeled right 1", moved forward 5"

GF

Wheeled left 1", moved forward 2.5"

RLR

Wheeled left 2", moved forward 2"

W

Consumed K'fe, S1 and S2 +1 W, moved 3" @ S1

***

Magic Item: Percolator

The Percolator is a silver, magical jug able to produce a powerful and invigorating potion, called K'fe. K'fe takes a whole turn to prepare. The unit must remain stationary whilst preparing K'fe. Preparation must be declared in the movement phase. Once ready, it can be imbibed by the creator and their unit, allowing any statistic (except for Cool) to be increased by 1. K'fe can be imbibed more than once (the effects are cumulative, but no statistic may be increased beyond 10), but it can only be drunk once per turn. Each time K'fe is consumed, however, the drinker(s) must reduce their Cool by 1.

***

Shooting Phase

Perhaps you get this feeling sometimes: you know when you've done something stupid, maybe in the car, or whilst carrying something heavy - and you think, I'll just press CTRL-Z (or CMD-Z for the bohemian users out there...). Then reality punches you in the face, because of course, in real life, you can't. I call these CTRL-Z moments.

I suspect that Seaman Sprayes experienced a CTRL-Z moment as he watched the flurry of quarrels sear across the field after he descended the hill.

In what turned out to be a good round for the crossbowmen as a whole, the 1st Company of Arrowheads manage to down two orc boar riders!

In retaliation, the orc stone thrower crew failed to hit their target - that being the last known location of the dwarven warmachines before the mystic mist came up. Unbeknown to them, however, they manage to kill three dwarves crewing the earthquaker.

Actions

Airbornegrove:

A1C

Shot @ RGH, wounded 2

A2C

Shot @ SOC, wounded 1

E

Shot @ RGH deviated, missed

Thantsants:

SC

Shot @ A1C, wounded 0

MM

Shot @ E deviated @ E, wounded 3

***

"Look - there's an elf running towards us," Beeyerbehl Lee grunted. "He's waving a sword. Requesting permission to fire, sir?"

Sergeant Reeyulale watched the elf careen down the hill. It wasn't terribly clear if he was running with the lizard riding elf or away from him.

"Hold your fire - how do you know its not one of our allies? For all you know, he's got the thingummy we came to get."

"With all due respect, sir, I have no idea if he's an ally or not, but he is waving his sword in what I consider to be a threatening manner and one that I deem to be a threat to the lives of my colleagues and I! I repeat - permission to fire, sir?"

"Denied! We have met the elves with the intention of establishing peace - I don't know where the other ones came from, but I don't want to be accountable for reigniting a war between our two great peoples!"

Beeyerbehl lifted his crossbow. "Sir, let us not forget that the whole reason we're here today is because one of those sons-of-bitches was caught knobbing Lady Luuhs. Your lips are still blue, sir. You know why? Because we just waded through the bloody freezing currents of the River Chai. Before that you woke up at two in the morning so you could force march to get here in time to meet these bastards, who don't even have the common decency to secure the area before trying to hand over their doohicky! How was your breakfast, sir? Oh, that's right, you didn't have any!"

"You had better watch your tongue, son, or I'll shoot you where you stand! We did those things because those were orders!" Reeyulale thumped his finger against Beeyerbehl's chest. "You're in the army now and that means you're in the business of following orders! You got me?"

Beeyerbehl blinked each time the sergeant's broad finger punched his into sternum.

Reeyulale glared at the unit. "No one shoots anything, alright! I'm just gonna have a smoke and decide what we- shit!" The sergeant patted his pockets up and down, before turning to look over his shoulder to look at the river. "Bugger me! I've lost my tobacco! I don't suppose any of you saw a yellow box..." he trailed off.

He followed the finger of Beeyerbehl as pointed wistfully at a little bob of yellow cheerfully drifting down the River Chai.

"Sonofabitch!" Beeyerbehl hissed through clenched teeth. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

Beeyerbehl shrugged. "It's the elves sir. Bad business all round. Permission to fire?"

"Shit always happens when there's elves around. They're a bloody curse, they are!"

"Permission to fire, sir?"

Reeyulale snatched the crossbow from the other dwarf. "Denied!"

"I'm shooting the bastard myself!"

***

Combat Phase

Curiously, Kibarkid's lot continue to hold out against the Steelaxes, despite the fact that they are pathetic goblins and the Steelaxes are well trained, well equipped dwarves.

The dwarves are pushed back, introducing a 'weight' wheel - something that happens in 3rd edition that doesn't happen in current editions of Warhammer. In this case, the lines are now out of 'balance', with the 'heavier' unit causing the other to wheel backwards as they get pushed back. Its one of those careful situations where you may not want to follow up too many times, as you'll be out of position. In this case, neither unit has a choice, as they hate each other, but it is nice to see some of the tactical nuances introduced by the idea of push-backs and follow ups.

Also, the brave Master B'tor challenges Morgrim to single combat. despite riding a fearsome cold one and being quite a capable warrior, Morgrim sees the dark elf captain off - but not without being injured himself.

Another interesting element of 3rd edition that we don't see in the later editions is the idea of instability. Applying specifically to undead and daemons (and elementals - you won't see those in later editions!), this is a roll taken by unstable units to see how they react to tough situations, usually caused by magic or being defeated in combat. In later editions, where one subtracts the wounds suffered from ones leadership when determining what the score is to roll for routing (fleeing, child - fleeing), players would simply remove that number extra from the unstable unit. In 3rd edition, this is a dice roll against a table - the entire unit could be destroyed, or it could get casualties returned to it - possibly enough to return to its original strength.

Anyway, the dwarves pushed the summoned undead back - both units rolled for instability - one lost 3 extra figures - the other became completely ethereal - and therefore completely ineffectual!

Actions

MB vs F

Round 1

Modifiers

MB

charged

F

none

Attacks

A1 I10

Parried

A2 I9

MB -> MI

A3 I8

MB -> MI

A4 I7

MB -> MI

A1 I4

MB <- MI

A2 I3

MB <- MI

A3 I2

MB <- MI

A1 I1

MB's mount -> MI

A4 I1

MB <- MI

A2 I1

MB's mount -> MI

Results

MB

+1 (charged) = 1

S

+1 (standard) +1 (ranks) = 2

Round 2

Modifiers

MB

none

F

follow-up

Attacks

A1 I9

MB -> MI

A2 I8

MB -> MI

A3 I7

MB -> MI

A4 I6

MB -> MI (1W)

A1 I4

MB <- MI

A2 I3

MB <- MI

A3 I2

MB <- MI (1W)

A4 I1

MB <- MI

A1 I1

MB's mount -> MI

A2 I1

MB's mount -> MI

Results

MB

+1 (wounds) = 1

S

+1 (follow-up) +1 (standard) +1 (ranks) +1 (wounds) = 4

Free Hack 1

A1 I4

MB <- MI (1W)

A2 I3

MB <- MI

A3 I2

MB <- MI

A4 I1

MB <- MI

I vs S1, S2

Round 1

Modifiers

I

charged

S1, S2

charged

Attacks

A1 I2

Dwarf1 -> Skeleton4@S2 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf1 <- Skeleton4@S2

A1 I2

Dwarf2 -> Skeleton3@S2 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf2 <- Skeleton3@S2

A1 I2

Dwarf3 -> Skeleton2@S2 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf3 <- Skeleton2@S2

A1 I2

Dwarf4 (std) -> Skeleton1@S2

A1 I2

Dwarf4 (std) <- Skeleton1@S2

A1 I2

Dwarf8 <- Skeleton2@S1

A1 I2

Dwarf8 -> Skeleton2@S1 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf8 <- Skeleton3@S1

A1 I2

Dwarf4 (std) <- Skeleton4@S1

Results

I

+1 (charged) +1 (standard) +1 (war banner) +4 (wounds) = 7

S1, S2

+1 (ranks) = 1

Instability

S1

ineffective shadows

S2

skeleton 4, 3 and 2 died

Round 2

Modifiers

I

follow-up

S2

none

Attacks

A1 I2

Dwarf1 -> Skeleton4 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf1 <- Skeleton4

A1 I2

Dwarf2 -> Skeleton3

A1 I2

Dwarf2 <- Skeleton3

A1 I2

Dwarf3 -> Skeleton2 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf3 <- Skeleton2

A1 I2

Dwarf4 (std) -> Skeleton1 (1W)

A1 I2

Dwarf4 (std) <- Skeleton1

Results

I

+1 (follow-up) +1 (standard) +1 (war banner) +3 (wounds) = 6

S2

0

Instability

S2

ineffective shadows

K3C vs S

Round 1

Modifiers

K3C

follow-up, hatred

S

hatred

Attacks

A1 I3

Goblin1 <- Borri Forkbeard (1W)

A1 I2

Goblin2 -> Dwarf1

A1 I2

Goblin6 -> Dwarf1 (1W)

Results

K3C

+1 (follow-up) +1 (standard) +1 (ranks) +1 (wounds) = 4

S

+1 (wounds) = 1

Round 2

Modifiers

K3C

follow-up, hatred

S

hatred

Attacks

A1 I3

Goblin1 <- Borri Forkbeard (1W)

A1 I2

Goblin2 -> Dwarf1

A1 I2

Goblin6 -> Dwarf1

A1 I1

Goblin2 <- Dwarf1

Results

K3C

+1 (follow-up) +1 (standard) +1 (ranks) = 3

S

+1 (wounds) = 1

***

If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself, Master B'tor had thought to himself as he watched the orc captain chase his porcine cavalry back to try and get them under control.

Embarrassing, really.

Anyway, things had progressed. Having butchered what must have been the elven commander and claiming the hill, he noticed that the dwarves were closing in with the orcs. In their ignorance, haste or arrogance, they had exposed their entire flank to his elves.

What a curious thing to do...

Now that Sea Biscuit, his terrifying and odorous mount, had warmed up on the corpses of the wood elves, it was easy pickings to simply launch himself into the tiny squad of dwarves that seemed to making up their rear guard. So this he did.

***

It was Sea Biscuit's slavering roar that alerted Morgrim and his men that trouble was at hand. The dwarves had seen the lone elf and his dragon like steed rampaging around on the hill, but it had been difficult to discern who was who. Morgrim had not questioned the presence of two different elven armies hell bent on killing each other - the gods above knew it was hard enough for other races to deal with the arrogant swines, so it made complete sense that they would have it in for each other.

But now this one had distinguished himself. Morgrim was a confident fighter, but not an arrogant one. He would never go running across a battlefield in this fashion - screaming like that was basically just asking to be shot. Still, this elf must have some skill - he'd survived the fighting on the hill and seemed eager for more - that sort of thing always wanted watching, as you couldn't trust anyone who wanted to fight.

"Step aside, fellers, I think I'd better deal with this one. Stay in formation."

The Firehammers new better than to question him. Without a word, they parted, letting him through to the back before closing ranks.

The elf seemed delighted that Morgrim had presented himself - a cruel grin spread across his face as he levelled his lance.

Morgrim grimaced. He knew the next bit was going to hurt, but it had to be done.

"Remember, son, everyone always things being short is some sort of disadvantage - let 'em think that. You use it to your advantage every time, you hear!" his dad would say.

His plan relied on two things - dwarven engineering, in the shape of his family Mithril, and his low centre of gravity - you can't drop something that's already on the floor.

Morgrim trotted forward, setting his feet firmly, his great blade in the air above his shoulder. He was expecting the lance to hit the left side of his chest - if he could take the impact, he'd have the stupid elf for sure.

He stared up into the maw of the cold one as it howled in for the kill.

The crack of his ribs snapping was eye watering. The other dwarves, still in formation, collectively winced as the lance crunched into Morgrim's mithril, locking into an armoured link, the shaft bending before the tip ricocheted off sideways under his elbow.

***

It was as if Master B'tor had charged a rock. The shock of the impact reverberated right through the lance and up into his arm and shoulder. Sea Biscuit reared up as the elf rolled backwards from the impact, staying in the saddle only by his desperate grip on the reins bunched in his left fist.

***

Morgrim's upward swing became a sideways swing as he tumbled backwards. The sword sliced through the air under its own weight - his right hand simply following the swing through - his left hand extended out behind him to catch his fall.

***

It was the rearing up that saved Master B'tor. A blow aimed at his midriff clove through his ankle, sending his now useless foot flying. Morgrim's bloody blade finished its journey as it clanked against the scales of the cold one, the impetus not enough to cut into the animal.

***

Sea Biscuit lashed around with his head, grabbing Morgrim by his elbow. Deep in the creatures simple mind a brief moment of shock cut through the bloodlust as it realised its jaws could not crush the little creature it now held. The moment passed as instinct won the day - where biting failed, shaking succeeded. The cold one shook Morgrim like a rag doll. The dwarf clanked back and forth as he punched desperately at the creature. His mailed fist found the creatures throat, the impact assisted by the  impetus of being shaken.

***

Morgrim crashed into the Firehammers as the creature opened its jaws. It staggered sideways under the weight of the shrieking elf and it's sudden inability to breath...

***

Master B'tor propped himself and the blithering cold one up by stabbing his lance into the ground. His already aching shoulder carried the weight of himself and the cold one as he forced the creature to right itself. In that brief instant, he realised why it wasn't responding - his right foot was gone. There was nothing but a stream of blood where once a boot and stirrup swung. Fighting the urge to faint, he beat the stupid creature with his left foot, causing it to wheel around the lance. A sound kick caused the creature to launch itself roaring into the distance.

***

The Firehammers watched impassively as the cold one skittered away, fighting for grip as it tried to interpret the cockeyed instructions of the elf.

"You alright, sir?" one of them asked.

"Do I look alright to you?" Mogrim grunted as two of the dwarves helped him up. "That hurt like hell."

He hung his arm over the shoulder of Baye Conbutti, the youngest dwarf in the regiment. His breathing was laboured. "Sit me down, son - I - just need a - breather."

The unit crowder around him as Baye lowered him onto a nearby rock.

"Hey!" Morgrim barked. "You lot stay in formation! It's just- " Morgrim looked down to see the great rent that had been punched into his breastplate.

"-it's just a scratch."

***

Reserves Phase

The reserves phase is suitably dull, what with orcs moving towards dwarves and giants moving towards orcs. When it comes to picking the lesser of two evils, I know which I'd take...

Actions

Airbornegrove:

MO

Moved forward 6"

Thantsants:

WoP

Moved forward 3", wheeled right 1", moved forward 1"

RLR

Moved forward 4"

GF

Wheeled right 3"

Magic Phase

Wineghum, realising that the dwarves have overcome his summoned army, launches two fireballs at them, caring not whether his creations are seared into nothingness. A stunned dwarf is burned to a crisp as a result!

Actions

Thantsants:

W

Casted 2 Fireballs @ I, wounded 1, 11 MP remaining

Rallying Phase

Chamallow's Goblins and Suderfedd's Big Boys Brigade, running more or less straight into their determined and furious commanding officer, Rogaine, bring their headlong dash for safety to a halt - his 'soothing' influence and 'calm' demeanour being something orcs across the world respect...

The mercenaries fail to rally and leave the table.

Actions

Airbornegrove:

MF

Failed to rally

Thantsants:

CGC

Rallied

SBB

Rallied

Battle Navigator

Prologue 

Meet The Contestants

Rules and Deployment

Turn 1

Turn 2

Turn 3

Turn 4

Turn 5 (you are here)

Turn 6

Turn 7

Turn 8

Turn 9

Turn 10

Epilogue