Showing posts with label Dwarves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dwarves. Show all posts

Monday, 29 November 2021

Battle Report: The Vampyr Of The Riding

 Last weekend, I had the privilege and pleasure of playing one of the most enjoyable games of Warhammer Fantasy Battle I've ever played. 

And I have played quite a few good games of Warhammer, so let me assure you of the quality of what I experienced last week. 

"Playing with yourself again, are we?' wonders the ancient reader, familiar with events long ago on this blog. 

Thanks for asking - but no. This exchange involved a real, actual human opponent that, well, wasn't me

There are a few reasons for the superlative experience, I think:

  1. I felt the desperate rush to paint something in a way I've not experienced since my Warhammer infused childhood. 
  2. The desperation caused me to look again at figures I had in my collection that had not yet been stripped, or were semi-painted, or, well, anywhere close to allowing me to do something I haven't done for a while. Thus I realised that a large proportion of the dwarves in my collection were still waiting to be stripped down, but were actually in quite good condition. Salvageable condition.  Quickly salvageable - achievable within about a week or so. 
  3. ...which created a whole new possibility, the results of which you will read about shortly
  4. The chap with whom I had played has not, for various reasons, had very many or good experiences with any versions of Warhammer, but had a jib squarely cut in the oldhammer pattern. I submit to the reader that this was very fertile ground.
  5. I had to formulate both forces as a result of owning all the figures and also being the more experienced player. Long have I pondered how capable the 4th edition of Warhammer would be if tackled responsibly, and this was a very, very rich opportunity to explore that. 
  6. Having played The Battle At The East Gate of Karak Eight Peaks at Bring Out Your Lead with the formidable Gillson brothers, I was still on a high, because that was another of the most enjoyable games of Warhammer I've experienced in a very long time. I wanted to play some more 4th edition.
  7. The chap that I played against has previously visited me to play 3rd edition. For a new starter, 3rd edition is a tough prospect, and he found the detail distracting. 4th edition felt like it would serve well in this scenario. 

Now it has been a long time since I've crafted enough narrative to enrich a battle report. The few games I've been able to play have all been rushed and boundaried by unfair and ridiculous constraints, which mean they've not received the love (or the player engagement) they deserved. I had entered this game expecting the same thing, and although I had formulated some of the narrative (enough to shape some of the force selection), it was only after the event that I realised the thing deserved more, because it was so good. 

Which leads us to the game itself. As all games should, we'll begin with a prologue...

***

The Striganie people of Cruel Sylvania, called also in ancient times the Fennone, have a long habit of opening the stories told of and by their people with a time one hundred and one years in the past. Be the matter last week, last year or last decade; it occured one hundred and one years ago. 

And so it is with this story so faithfully retold to me by that redoubtable people. It settles me to say the story, starting as they do with this curious endearment of theirs.

For one hundred years ago and one, a peace had settled on The Auld Ryding. In that time, it was known simply as The Riding, and contained within its borders the villages of Shoodthorpe (referred to by some as Stoodthorpe), Averridge and Mayby. Modern day cartographers will tell you that the village of Stoodhof must necessarily be - or be found upon - the remains of Stoodthorpe, and indeed, the same for Maylhof with long forgotten Mayby. 

The Auld Ryding nuzzles like a hound at his master's feet into the roots of the Black Mountains, in the northern shadow of the peaks that boundary the freezing flows of the Black Water Lake.

Should it ever be that you conduct your business in lonely Zhufbar, or indeed travel west from that place to warmer Imperial climes of Einsamholtz, Averheim or even far away Nuln, you may very well find yourself taking your mutton at the Inn of the Green King in Averridge as you pass by.

Now it came to pass that the peace was shattered: there fell a great tragedy upon the Roogslaugh family, who resided at their family estate of Hill House: the great house burned down, and with it, all of its once noble occupants. 

The folk of The Riding claim the house was put to the torch by an angry crowd from Shoodthorpe, for the house was profane in the eyes of all good and holy men. In that house was practiced necromancie, and daemonologie, and other acts of malice and wrongdoing. 

Still others claim that the house was consumed by daemons, come to collect the souls of Count Roogslaugh and his kin that were long over-due.

Yet the Striganie make a third claim, by which they swear, that the house in fact was set on fire by the youngest son of the Count: Daniel Roogslaugh. In their telling, young Daniel desired one thing above all others in life:

To be a woman. 

Being as yet unlearned in the ways of his family's spellcraft, he beseeched his father, his mother, his brothers and sisters, uncles, aunts and any of the servants with the heart to listen to entreat whatever dark gods and powers with whom they kept appointments to grant him this one desire - but to no avail. 

Full of shame, his father and his brothers beat the boy within an inch of his life and ejected him from the house, bidding him never to return. Young Daniel was compelled to live a scoundrels life, reduced to eating worms and beetles and whatever gruel the pigs of Shoodthorpe could not reach in their troughs. 

Full of rage and spite, Daniel survived and grew strong in his adversity. There came a travelling circus to Shoodthorpe who took in the boy, where he learned the skills of acting, and powder, and disguise. In the years that followed, he succumbed to his craven appetite for all things feminine: consuming costly fashion, spreading innane gossip and fainting as the occasion saw fit. He also abandoned the Roogslough name, setting on Danielle Le Roux, or has he became known: Danni.

At the height of his new performing career, it came to pass that Danni beguiled and fascinated a wealthy theatre goer. The gentleman, whose name was Andru Wwoydlebber (of the West Hochland Wwoydlebbers) was also a fearsome vampyr, known in society only as The Bantam of the Opera, on account of the cockerel mask he donned at such events. He pledged his love for Danni and on the night of their wedding, bestowed upon Danni the Kiss Everlasting. Too late did Wwoydlebber perceive the truth: he had not made sure that the girl was pure, as directed by the ancient wisdom of the Tone Loc. Nay, declared the vampyr: he was not about to play around with no Osca Myewina (a derogatory term the Striganie declined to illuminate) and thrashed Danni within an inch of his life before expelling him into the night in his wrath.

Long did Danni wander, developing erudition in the way of the vampyr. Finally, the master of his dark power, he returned to Hill House to exact his revenge on his former family. Terrible was his vengeance that night; not a creature made a sound in all The Riding, lest they drew the ire of the avenging vampyr in all his terrible fury.

Yet, even with his dying breath, the old Count Roogslough pronounced a curse upon Danni: paralysed shall he be, as unto stone, until one hundred years and one had passed. At once, Danni was turned to stone and there stood in the burning ruins of his family home. 

In the time that followed, many grave robbers and their ilk visited the ruin of Hill House, prospecting for whatever wealth there remained. In a daring display of bravado, once such character cleaned up the statue that Danni had become, and, struck by the look of anguish on the statue's face, was this able to sell it to the village council of Averridge as a statue of the Martyr Morga, Our Lady of Sigmar Distressed, for no less than one hundred pieces of silver. The statue was placed in the market square, and there dwelt until the passing of one fateful Hexenstag.

And so it was that late on that evening of Hexenstag, when a single cloud interrupted the full light of Mannsleib, that the curse was finally broken, and the young vampyr, possessed with the hunger of one hundred and one years of waiting, came to his senses. Immediately, he locked eyes with the rotund (some cruel folk had been known to say 'porcine') Lady Weller, gazing vacantly out of her parlour window. With unnatural power and grace, Danni leapt up to her window, compelling her with his daemonic charm to allow him to enter, whereupon she yielded to his most base desires: the waxing of his upper lip and the immediate trimming of his split ends. This done, the two discussed the fashions of the modern, conscientious  lady, before he drained her of every drop of blood her formidable form could muster and fled with her wardrobe. 

Beset with sorrow, Sir Weller demanded the village constabulary immediately bring to justice the wicked vampyr. Their leader, the brave Captain Prangle, knew a little of vampyrs and realised he and his men would be quickly outclassed by such a vicious beast of the night as the one that had so brutally murdered the good lady. To this end, he secured the services of the Thunderbuckle clan - merchant hill dwarves that had been looking to expand into the area. 

There came also a renowned wizard of the Grey order: Elrich Lang, who specialised uniquely in the hunting of vampyrs and the consumption of alcohol, preferring especially the heady ciders of the southern Empire. Having heard of the plight of the village of Averridge whilst on route to the Shrine of Gadd (on account of the legend of that places brew house), he immediately volunteered to join the company of men and dwarves, to seek out and destroy The Vampyr of The Riding.

***

 Location

An ancient map of The Riding:


 Note that the right hand side of the map is, in fact, south. This map:

 

 

...better shows both the position of The Riding in the Empire, as well as its true orientation (the top of the map is north).

***

Forces

So remember when I spoke about being responsible with the rules? Well, in my opinion, one of the greatest contributors to the horror of 4th edition was the irresponsible use of lists and the delegation of the players' abilities to have fun down to the rule books and army lists. 

I love (LOVE!) the early army books from 4th edition because they have the right amount of passion and none of the marketing finesse (as in, power creep...) that the later editions would introduce. 

In this case, I was able to achieve what I wanted within the bounds of the army books, but this is strictly coincidence, as opposed to my being boundaried by what the books offered. There were some differences to what might have happened in 4th edition way back when:

  • I did not use points to determine the forces. I went with a looks-and-feels-right approach. 
  • Whilst I don't think characters should buy magic items directly (random draw or pay for random draw), having no points basically just meant I would randomise the magic items. 
  • The player could determine which item was best suited to which character (sometimes, I'd advocate the character has what the character has, but this felt right this time). 
  • I opted not to use the Chaos Gift cards (so no Eternal Labour...), even though I was really aching to. I didn't want Matt's 4th edition experience to have his chaos characters forced off the table before he could apply himself to the situation. I did use spells and magic items from that set, however. 

 

***

 

The Undead

The Undead. Clickening will embiggen.

 

CHARACTERS

 

Danni Le Roux - Vampire Lord

Items:

  • Blessed Sword (Grants WS 10. Yeah, I know.)

Spells:

  • Raise the Dead 
  • Vanhels Dans Macabre


Captain Vorador - Wight Champion

Items:

  • Wight Blade (1 W = 1d3 W)
  • Heavy Armour

 

Lord Helke - Wight Champion

Items:

  • Wight Blade (1 W = 1d3 W)
  • Heavy Armour

 

Mihartiskaphut - Mummy Tomb Lord

Items:

  • Manticore
  • Dragonhelm (2+ save against fire attacks)

 

Scuttlebotch - Chaos Hero

Items:
  • Mark of Nurgle (+1 Toughnesss)
  • Tormentor Sword (Surviving victims are subject to Stupidity)
  • Potion of Chaos
  • Heavy Armour 

 

Livvissspot the Insidious - Sorcerer

Items:

  • Mark of Slaanesh
  • Dispel Magic Scroll

Spells: 

  • Cacaphonic Choir

 

TROOPS


The Old Barrowmen of Stoodthorpe - 20 Zombies

Items:

  • Evil disposition and pathetic moaning 

 

The 1st Companie of Averridge - 19 Skeletons

Led by Captain Vorador

Items:

  • Banner
  • Musician
  • Spears
  • Shields
  • Light Armour


The Reapers of Farie Tor - 19 Skeletons

Led by Lord Helke

Items:

  • Banner
  • Musician
  • Two Handed Weapons
  • Light Armour 

 

The Hateful Eight - 8 Chaos Warriors

Items:

  • Banner
  • Two Handed Weapons
  • Heavy Armour

 

The Blessed Few - 8 Plaguebearers of Nurgle

Items:

  • Plague Swords (1 W = instant death)
  • Cloud of Flies
  • Daemon Saving Throw

Spells:

  • Pillar of Putrefaction (bit of a lemon for these chaps...)

 

***

 

The Dwarves

Dwarves. And Halflings. And the brave constables of Averridge.


CHARACTERS


Hesior Thunderbuckle - Dwarf Lord

Items:

  • Hand Weapon
    • Master Rune of Flight (throw weapon up to 12")
    • Rune of Cleaving (+1S)
    • Rune of Parrying (Enemy automatically misses one attack)
  • Heavy Armour 
    • Master Rune of Adamant (+2 Sv)
    • Rune of Fortitude (+1T)
  • Talisman
    • Master Rune of Spite (4+ Save, if saved, wound is rebounded on enemy)

 

Bofel The Wise - Rune Lord

Items:

  • Hand Weapon
    • Master Rune of Swiftness (Always attacks first)
  • Heavy Armour 
    • Rune of Resistance (Reroll failed armour save on unmodified 4+)
    • Rune of Stone (+1 Sv)
  • Talisman
    • Rune of the Furnace (Immune to fire based damage)

 

Tuvith Thunderbuckle - Dwarf Hero

Items:

  • Hand Weapon
    • Rune of Might (Double strength if enemy toughness greater than his)
  • Crossbow
  • Light Armour 
    • Rune of Stone (+1 Sv)

 

Thrassuid Gravelhood - Battle Standard Bearer

Items:

  • Hand Weapon
  • Shield
  • Heavy Armour
  • Battle Standard
    • Master Rune of Stromni Readbeard (+1 Combat resolution for all friendly units within 12") 

 

Josef Bugman - Dwarf Hero

  • Hand Weapon
    • Rune of Cleaving (+1 S)
    • Rune of Fury (+1 A)
  • Crossbow
  • Shield
  • Light Armour 
    • Rune of Resistance (Reroll failed armour save on unmodified 4+)
  • Bugman's Tankard (Recover 1 W per drink, 3 uses per game)

 

'Owd' Tom Thyksson - Champion

Items:

  • Hand Weapon
  • Two-Handed Weapon 
  • Crossbow
  • Shield
  • Light Armour

 

Captain Roland Prangle - General of the Empire

Items:

  • Blade of Leaping Copper (+1 A)
  • Golden Helm of Atrazar (2+ Sv)

Spells:

  • Raise the Dead 
  • Vanhels Dans Macabre

 

Elrich Lang - Master Wizard of the Grey Order

Items:

  • Destroy Magic Scroll

Spells:

  • The Crown of Taidron
  • Bridge of Shadows
  • Radiance of Ptolos

 

TROOPS


The Thunderbuckle Household Guard - 11 Hammerers

Led by Hesior Thunderbuckle

Items:

  • Banner
  • Musician
  • Two Handed Weapons
  • Hand Weapons
  • Shields
  • Heavy Armour

 

The Grand Companie of The Long Beard - 13 Longbeards

Led by Thrassuid Gravelhood

Items:

  • Musician
  • Hand Weapons
  • Shields
  • Heavy Armour

 

The 7th Thunderbuckle Light Brigade - 9 Dwarf Warriors

Led by Bofel The Wise

Items:

  • Banner
  • Musician
  • Hand Weapons
  • Shields
  • Light Armour

 

Tuvith's Scouting Party - 4 Dwarf Warriors

Led by Thuvith Thunderbuckle

Items:

  • Musician
  • Hand Weapons
  • Crossbows
  • Light Armour

 

Bugman's Dwarf Rangers - 8 Dwarf Warriors

Led by Josef Bugman

Accompanied by 'Owd' Tom Thyksson

Items:

  • Banner
  • Musician
  • Hand Weapons
  • Two-Handed weapons
  • Crossbows
  • Shields
  • Light Armour

 

The Averridge 1st Company of the Constabulary - 29 Imperial Halberdiers

Led by Captain Roland Prangle

Items:

  • Banner
  • Halberds
  • Shields
  • Light Armour

 

WAR MACHINES

 

Big Jessie - Cannon 

Items:

  • Halfling Crew

 

***

 

The next post will cover the battle itself.

***

GAME NAVIGATOR

Narrative & Army Lists
Deployment
Turn 1
Turn 2
Turn 3
Turn 4

Monday, 16 September 2013

Battle Report: The Bridge Over the River Chai - Turn 10

The final turn. In modern editions of Warhammer, one could have played twenty separate games of warhammer in the number of turns we've taken to complete one.

But what's the rush?

Lets think of this as a glass of Ladybank Single Malt, as opposed to a bottle of Budweiser. The right thing to do is to enjoy it slowly. No one will judge you here.

The turn starts like this
There are not many events to discuss in this turn. Of course, if you've been tracking the past nine turns, you might have noticed how all the heavy hitters seem to have conglomerated in the middle of the field. Perhaps we can make something of that?

Movement Phase

And so Rogaine does. Both he and his unusually aggressive shaman charge the two combatants. There are now seventy levels worth of characters in combat!

Actions
GM:

MB
Holds
Airbornegrove:

MI
Holds
F
Reformed
Thantsants:

W
Charged @ MI, moved 5"
R
Charged @ MB, moved 6.5"
GF
Routed off the table
K3C
Routed off the table
RLR
Routed off the table



***

Rogaine grabbed his boar's neck hairs in an upward wrench, causing the excitable, squealing beast to a halt. Forcing its head towards Wineghum, he commanded it to jog slowly to the shaman and his spider mount.

"Good to see yer still around, shaman," Rogaine growled.

Wineghum blinked. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came.

"You still got the box?" the orc grunted, barely audible, his eyes never leaving the wild combat between the elf and the dwarf.

Wineghum nodded furiously.

"I SAID: HAVE YOU STILL GOT THE BOX, IDIOT?"

Wineghum jumped, his spider flinching with him. He's not looking at you, idiot. He can't see you nodding to save your life, now, can he! Say something!

"Er, Siryessir! I mean, Yessiryes! Sir! Yes! Sir! Totally didn't open it, Sir! It just -" Wineghum's brain finally caught up with his mouth. SHUT UP! He didn't ask if it was open, did he?

Wineghum gulped as Rogaine's eyes swept over him.

"Good. I've just got to go and sort them out." He waved at the two combatants. "Then I'm back to get that box, hear?"

The shaman nodded again, adding a quick yelp of affirmation when he realised Rogaine was looking at the combat again. "Box safe with me! Yes Sir! Don't you worry 'bout a thing!"

"Then stay here!"

***

Wineghum watched in morbid fascination as the orc barrelled into the frenzied fight before them.

Then slay her? Slay who? Is that really what he said, Wineghum wondered? He looked around. Who was 'her'? There were no women where Rogaine had just pointed. Just an enraged melee of lizards, dwarves and elves - and from where he was standing, it looked like they were all losing.

He must have meant the elf. Sometimes, they look a lot like girls, don't they?

Wineghum shook his head. His heart was still pounding from the sudden interrogation from Rogaine. He hadn't dared tell Rogaine he'd opened the box, let alone used the contents. The black look of undiluted murder on the orc general's face was enough to suggest that anyone who disobeyed any orders from this point onwards was going to be very, very sorry. He would have-his-job-explained-to-him-in-no-uncertain-terms.

And that was usually fatal.

Wineghum swallowed. Beads of sweat formed on his head. On the one hand, attacking the hateful elf and his crazy steed was almost certain death. And it was an elf, of all things!

On the other hand, disobeying Rogaine was almost certain death.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and, well, another rock. Landslides, really. Cliffs, come to think of it. Stuck between two sheer cliffs each with two landslides and a couple of rocks on top.

It was hard.

It wasn't fair. How was he supposed to protect the box for his lord when his lord ordered him into a no win situation? Stupid orc!

He prodded his spider with his axe.

"Let's go," he muttered, wincing. "Let's hope he's killed them all by the time we get there, eh?"

***
Rogaine's first target was clear: Master B'tor. His entire force appeared to have been decimated, he had been arrogant and patronising in his negotiation and frankly, he was just an all round git. Rogaine hated dwarves too, and this wasn't to suggest the dwarf would get off any lighter, but at least they were honourable and respectable.

There's something to be said for honour, both on and off the battlefield.

And from his perspective, Rogaine was about to say that something to the elf. In no uncertain terms.

*** 

Master B'tor clanged off another strike from the dwarf with a desperate swing of his sword. He was tired now and felt like he was losing to the dizziness. He gave a futile pull at the reigns, trying to pull the cold one out of the fight, but the damned creature savaged at the dwarf's armour as if it had never tasted blood - the problem was the blood it was tasting was its own.

He lashed out again, sparks flying as his blade connected with some armour, but that strike didn't stop the dwarf either. Too late, he realised the upward thrust of the dwarf, jabbing straight for his midriff.

But the pain never came. The massive, bloody head of the cold one knocked the sword aside as it tried in vain to get a grip on the dwarf.

The move was so sudden Master B'tor tumbled sideways from the beast in the opposite direction.

***

Morgrim had no idea what had just happened. He knew he'd been parried and he felt the blow on his arm. He was sure he was onto a winner with his upward thrust, but suddenly he was flying through the air. He grunted in frustration as he flew away from the elf, who, it seemed, was also airborne.

***

No! Ohno! Nonononono! This can't be happening! Wineghum's eyes bulged as he calculated the trajectory of the dwarf general.

It was going to hit him.

Up until then, things seemed fine in the savage spectacle of the elf and the dwarf (and the soon-to-be-added-orc). Rogaine seemed hell bent on the Master B'tor, which pleased Wineghum no end and caused him not to goad the spider quite as vigorously as would have been required for an all out charge.

May as well let the orc do his work, after all.

But then Master B'tors cold one stepped in. The bloody thing finally got a grip on the dwarf commander and started shaking him about like a starved dog with a rat. That action then led to the cold one losing grip on the commander, who was temporarily relieved of his obligations to the laws of gravity.

And that action led to the bone crunching introduction of Morgrim Ironbeard to Wineghum.

***

Master B'tor held his sword above him, waving it slowly in some vague defense against the sniffing head of the giant lizard.

"Sea Biscuit!" he grunted. "Bad boy! Look what you've gone and done."

He shook his head - he knew Sea Biscuit was too far gone to respond to any commands now. What a way to go. Eaten by your own cold one. What would the others say about him now? He closed his eyes and lay back.

What happened next was not the tearing asunder of his rib cage, though, but an eye popping crack and the grunt of both the cold one and...Rogaine? Master B'tor blinked up at the orc, who was recovering from what was evidently a head butt. A wild glance to his left revealed an equally surprised cold one, sitting on its haunches and shaking its head.

"Th-thanks," he stammered, lifting himself up onto an elbow.

"Don't mention it," Rogaine said as he calmly lopped Master B'tor's head off with a sweep of his scimitar.

***

This is ridiculous, thought Morgrim as he dived to the ground to avoid the clacking fangs of the giant spider. Why can't everyone else just bloody well fight on foot, like normal soldiers? Lizards, spiders, boars - I don't get paid enough for this shit!

He gained his feet behind the spider, only to be banged on the head with the stupid goblin's skull staff. He lashed out, slicing the staff in two, but narrowly missing the goblin's face, before barrelling into the spider, trying to knock it over.

Such a thing might have worked against the clumsier, more heavily set cold one, but a spider? Even giant spiders are nimble and sensitive. The spider darted to the side, spinning in the same move, mandibles raised to strike as Morgrim ran straight past.

***

It was all Wineghum could do to hang on. He saw the dwarf run by, sword raised. Slowly, he took in the new scene unfolding before him, and while doing so, he gently pulled the spider back. It scuttled backwards, mandibles still raised, but it seemed as relieved as Wineghum not to be getting involved in what was about to unfold.

***

 Morgrim stopped. What towered over him was a giant orc - one of the biggest he'd ever seen. Behind the orc, the cold one lizard savaged at what remained of the elf's carcass. The orc's boar ran squealing and grunting into the distance, released from service.

This was their commander.

The orc held his scimitar down, allowing elven blood to run down the blade.

"My name is Rogaine." it said quietly, speaking an old dwarf dialect.

"My name is Morgrim," he replied in the crude words of the orc race.

***

Rogaine grinned.

Finally! This was the promised fight. One-on-one - the real measure of martial skill. Sure, he liked running the common muck down as it ran screaming from him, but the opportunity to fight a real warrior? That was rare these days.

He felt his back stiffening around the rent the dwarf axe had left, the warmth of the blood now fading. Hot breath thrust from his nostrils, swirling the sweet smell of evening dew with sting of blood and steel.
His ears pounded with the rush of blood as his heart raced in anticipation.

He charged.

***

Morgrim could see his Firehammers reforming in the distance. They would not be close enough to help him now. He wiped a mix of sweat and blood from his brow, grateful for the brief respite of combat.

It would have to do. He fiddled with his shoulder straps, taking some time to readjust his armour ,which had been twisted and bent quite badly by the stupid lizard. It still wasn't comfortable, but it was better.

Morgrim sighed.

Here he comes...

***

Rogaine loved the fact that the dwarf was so much quicker than he looked. This was swordplay at its best - fast, furious and unrelenting. He loved the twisting, the near misses, the sheer exhilaration of knowing that his very life was on the brink.

Clang, swish, clatter, dodge.

He barked in triumph as slapped the dwarf's sword away from what was almost certain disembowelment. He grunted in delight when the dwarf twisted his sword away, forcing him to follow the blade away or risk losing grip.

Smart. Very smart.

Blink, dive, clank, woosh.

The two separated, panting.

***

Morgrim felt his wrists click as he fought to gain control of his two handed sword. If he survived this, he'd be in bed for a week, because his muscles were so sore from straining against the orc beast.

Swash, ding, clatter, duck.

Everything he tried, the orc seemed to be able to anticipate. Even things that should have worked - the orc tripped, but was lucky enough to slip whilst trying to stand again, leading to his fortunate avoidance of decapitation.

But the orc was also brutally tough - blows that Morgrim landed, albiet on armour, would have stopped a lesser orc and certainly caused some of the bigger ones to pause for thought - but that wasn't happening here. Perhaps he was just getting too old for this?

Zing, roll, clink, thrash.

The two separated, panting.

***

Wineghum shuffled nervously as the regiment from which the dwarf general had emerged formed up to watch the fight. Rogaine seemed to be holding his own, but the goblin wasn't about to take any chances. He was ready to run at the first sign of trouble...

***

Rogaine slapped Morgrim's blade away with his own, clearing the way between the two for what would have been an opportunistic head butt, but for the fact that the orc was nearly twice as tall as the dwarf. Too late, Rogaine realised his mistake as he staggered past the dwarf trying desperately to keep his balance. Morgrim, more from weariness than anything else, slammed his blade in a wide swing directly into the armoured chest of the orc - the blow nothing but ineffectual noise.

Rogaine did crumple over the blade, though, trapping Mogrim's sword as the orc dropped to his knees.

Morgrim blinked at his empty hands, before frantically searching his belt for his dagger.

Shing! Morgrim gripped and pulled at the dagger - just in time to receive the full force of Rogaine's even more opportunistic second headbutt - this time at just the perfect height.

Blood sprayed from both heads as the impact of bone on bone rang over the battlefield.

Rogaine dropped to all fours, catching himself from toppling over.

Morgrim's eyes rolled up into his head as he dropped backwards.

***

The Firehammers started forwards, ready to slaughter the orc, when, to a dwarf, they stopped - the giant orc had picked Morgrim up by his throat, rested his blade against his chest, and stared in challenge at the oncoming dwarves.

"I ain't like other orcs," the brute said slowly, surprising them with the quality of his dwarven dialect.

"Your leader has fought well, so he ain't gonna die here today."

"What will you do?" one of the dwarves called out.

Rogaine bent the head of the unconscious general over his open hand, shaking the dwarf roughly. Blood and spittle accompanied three teeth as they dropped into his bloody fingers.

He sorted the teeth with his thumb. Normal. Gold. Gold.

Rogaine gently laid Morgrim down on his back, placing the normal tooth on his chest. He stood and addressed the Firehammers, showing them the two golden teeth.

"I'll take these fer a trophy. My name is Rogaine, and I defeated Morgrim."

With that, he turned his back on the dwarves, sheathed his scimitar and strode from the field.

***

Combat Phase

And so it is done. Four warriors enter. Two warriors leave. A very fitting conclusion to the final combat phase.

What follows here is a more mechanical version of the events above. Of course, the above is to tell a story, whereas the below tells events as they happened. Of course, Rogaine never 'officially' dismounted and it is important that you know that both Morgrim and Rogaine scored a killing blow on Master B'tor. Dreamfish randomised which was the one that did him in, and it turned out to be Rogaine.
Actions

MI vs MB, MB vs R, MI vs W
Round 1

Modifiers
MI
follow-up
MB
none
R
charged
W
charged
Attacks
A1 I9
Parried
A2 I8
Morgrim <- MB
A3 I7
Morgrim <- MB
A4 I6
Morgrim <- MB
A1 I5
MB <- Rogaine
A1 I5
MB <- Rogaine's mount
A2 I4
MB <- Rogaine
A2 I4
MB <- Rogaine's mount
A1 I4
Morgrim -> MB
A3 I3
MB <- Rogaine
A1 I3
Morgrim <- Wineghum
A2 I3
Morgrim -> MB
A4 I2
MB <- Rogaine (1W)
A1 I1
Morgrim <- Spider
A2 I1
Morgrim <- Spider
Results
MI
+1 (follow-up) = 1
R, W
+1 (charged) +1 (wounds) = 2
Round 2

Modifiers
MI
none
R
follow-up
W
follow-up
Attacks
A1 I5
Morgrim <- Rogaine (2W)
Results
R, W
+1 (charged) +2 (wounds) = 3



Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Dumbel Doore

Following on from my first entry in my alternative adventuring party, I've finished another adventurer:

Bugger. It's an ethereal. And I left my silver blade in my other handbag... 
But wait - what's this?

Sir Dwarf, I don't suppose you could help a lady out?

Eh? What's that? Help a lady count?

What Lady?

Nothing to count here...

Hmmm. Voices again. Better sort this ethereal out before someone gets hurt.

Oh thank you sir! I thought I was done for!
Eh? No no - not Dunne Fore - name's Dumbel Doore. DUMBEL DOORE.
So I introduce to you Dumbel 'I'm getting too old for this shit' Doore, a brave and accomplished dwarf wizard, blasting his way from dungeon to dungeon as he seeks out fame, fortune, ancient lore and expensive whisky.

Again, we're going for quick painting, as opposed to amazing painting, which is something I've found is helping me get on with things. Seven painted figures and a Warhammer Quest set in one month? I think its working. Who needs detail anyway?

Also, not sure quite what happened with the pictures, I just couldn't get the light quite right, so apologies for the darkness and slight blurriness. Don't worry - there will be more opportunities to see our fearsome adventuring pair!

Saturday, 11 May 2013

Battle Report: The Bridge Over the River Chai - Turn 9

We grind on. Things are much more... focused now. We know there are other orcs and dwarves and elves and whatnot. But we cast our casual gaze to the middle of the field, where, as fate would have it, all the stars of the show have conglomerated within 12" of each other.

Is that the subtle giggle of destiny I hear?

The turn starts like this

Movement Phase


The Steelaxes, having been stung by the goblins earlier in the fight, prepare themselves for vengeance and charge Rogaine and his remaining boar boys. Wineghum, not normally one to launch into combat, succumbs to his firm hatred of dwarves and their like, and goads his giant spider into a clumsy flank charge. Fortunately for the dwarves, they pass their panic test. 

Actions
Airbornegrove:

S
Charged @ RGH, Changed formation to 4 files, moved forward 5"
A2C
Routed forward 6"
Thantsants:

RGH
Holds, unformed
W
Charged @ S, moved 1"
GF
Routed forward 7"
RLR
Routed forward 8"
K3C
Routed forward 7"
WoP
Routed off the table



Combat Phase

So it seems that there was some confusion just before the combat started. Too late did Dreamfish realise that the Firehammers, being +4 shock elites, actually have two attacks. I see your raised eyebrow. You clearly have an appreciation for the fact that bigger numbers are better than smaller numbers, but because of the lateness of this post, you're not entirely sure what the impact of this is on the game right now. Am I right?

Of course I'm right. No worries, I'll explain. 

In turn 8, the dwarves were actually pushed back by the dark elves. Dreamfish looked at this situation and realised that the dwarves would most likely have pushed the dark elves around, not the other way. This was also evidenced in the first round of combat - the dark elves managed to draw the combat. Now one can't go around battlefields crying over spilt milk - that sort of thing is just not done. But, compensation was required, so Dreamfish processed an extra set of attacks for the dwarves, which meant they were just able to overcome the dark elves, causing them to be pushed back (and followed up by the dwarves).

Dreamfish then granted Morgrim the right to step out of that follow up, so that he could remain in the epic challenge with Master B'tor, which, frankly is the thing we're really interested in. This is the sort of thing games-masters can do - they can change rules for the good of the game. You really should look into getting one. 

So, the final state of affairs for the dark elves was that they were pushed back by the dwarves, leading to them being completely annihilated as they fled whilst their two leaders continued to express their feelings for each other through the medium of swordplay.

Not far from these two, Rogaine and his lads meet the charge from the Steelaxes. Ensconced within that fine body of dwarves is the young Borri Forkbeard, who issues a challenge to Rogaine. 

Rogaine, as you may have noticed from earlier turns, struggles with anger management issues. He happily accepts the challenge before cleaving Borri in two with his wicked blade. The other dwarves and orcs acquit themselves suitably, but in the end, the remaining boar riders are all slain. Despite this, dwarves are also killed, leading to Rogaine and Wineghum getting a free hack when the dwarves rout. Unfortunately (if you're supporting the dwarves, otherwise please use the term 'fortunately'), that is enough to 'retire' the Steelaxes from active duty. 

Actions

S vs RGH, W
Round 1

Modifiers
S
charged
RGH
none
W
charged
Attacks
A1 I5
Borri Forkbeard <- Rogaine
A2 I4
Borri Forkbeard <- Rogaine
A1 I3
Borri Forkbeard -> Rogaine
A3 I3
Borri Forkbeard <- Rogaine
A2 I2
Borri Forkbeard -> Rogaine
A4 I2
Borri Forkbeard <- Rogaine
A3 I1
Borri Forkbeard -> Rogaine
A1 I3
Dwarf4 <- Orc1
A1 I3
Dwarf4 <- Orc1's mount
A1 I3
Dwarf3 <- Orc2
A1 I3
Dwarf3 <- Orc2's mount
A1 I3
Dwarf4 <- W (1W)
A1 I1
Dwarf3 -> Orc2 (1W)
A1 I1
Dwarf5 <- Spider
A1 I1
Dwarf5 -> W
A2 I1
Dwarf5 <- Spider
Results
S
+1 (charged) +1 (wounds) = 2
RGH, W
+1 (charged) +1 (wounds) = 2
Round 2

Modifiers
S
none
RGH
none
W
none
Attacks
A1 I5
Borri Forkbeard <- Rogaine (2W)
A1 I3
Dwarf3 <- W
A1 I2
Dwarf2 (mus) <- Orc1
A1 I2
Dwarf2 (mus) <- Orc1's mount
A1 I1
Dwarf2 (mus) -> Orc1 (1W)
A1 I1
Dwarf3 -> Orc1
A1 I1
Dwarf4 -> W
A1 I1
Dwarf4 <- Spider
A2 I1
Dwarf4 <- Spider (1W)
Results
S
+1 (wounds) = 1
RGH, W
+3 (wounds) = 3
Free Hack 1
A1 I5
Dwarf2 (mus) <- Rogaine (1W)
A1 I1
Dwarf3 <- W
A1 I1
Dwarf3 <- Spider (1W)
MB, SQC vs F
Round 1

Modifiers
MB
follow-up
SQC
follow-up
F
none
Attacks
A1 I9
Parried
A2 I8
MB -> MI
A3 I7
MB -> MI
A4 I6
MB -> MI
A1 I6
DE2 (std) -> Dwarf9
A1 I6
DE3 -> Dwarf8
A1 I6
DE4 -> Dwarf4 (1W)
A1 I6
DE9 -> Dwarf9
A1 I6
DE10 -> Dwarf7
A1 I6
DE11 -> Dwarf3 (std)
A1 I4
MB <- MI
A2 I3
MB <- MI (1W)
A3 I2
MB <- MI
A1 I2
DE11 <- Dwarf3 (std) (1W)
A1 I2
DE10 <- Dwarf6 (1W)
A1 I2
DE3 <- Dwarf8 (1W)
A1 I2
DE2 (std) <- Dwarf9
A1 I1
MB's mount -> Dwarf3 (std)
A4 I1
MB <- MI
A2 I1
MB's mount -> Dwarf3 (std)
Results
MB, SQC
+1 (standard) +1 (follow-up) +1 (wounds) = 3
F
+1 (standard) +4 (wounds) = 5
Round 2

Modifiers
SQC
none
F
follow-up
Attacks
A1 I6
DE1 -> Dwarf4
A1 I6
DE2 -> Dwarf3
A1 I6
DE3 -> Dwarf2 (std)
A1 I6
DE4 -> Dwarf1
A1 I2
DE4 <- Dwarf1
A1 I2
DE3 <- Dwarf2 (std) (1W)
A1 I2
DE2 (std) <- Dwarf3
A1 I2
DE1 <- Dwarf4
A1 I1
DE4 <- Dwarf1 (1W)
A1 I1
DE3 <- Dwarf2 (std)
A1 I1
DE2 (std) <- Dwarf3
A1 I1
DE1 <- Dwarf4
Results
SQC
+1 (standard) = 1
F
+1 (standard) +1 (follow-up) +2 (wounds) = 4
Free Hack 1
A1 I2
DE4 <- Dwarf1 (1W)
A1 I2
DE3 <- Dwarf2 (std) (1W)
A1 I2
DE2 (std) <- Dwarf3 (1W)
A1 I2
DE1 <- Dwarf4 (1W)
Free Hack 2
A1 I2
DE1 <- Dwarf5 (1W)
A1 I2
DE2 <- Dwarf6 (1W)
MB vs MI
Round 2

Modifiers
MB
none
MI
follow-up
Attacks
A1 I9
MB -> MI
A2 I8
MB -> MI
A3 I7
MB -> MI
A4 I6
MB -> MI
A1 I4
MB <- MI
A2 I3
MB <- MI
A3 I2
MB <- MI
A4 I1
MB <- MI
A1 I1
MB's mount -> MI
A2 I1
MB's mount -> MI
Results
MB
0
MI
+1 (follow-up) = 1



***

Morgrim nodded to his captain as they exchanged glances.

"You go after them, I'll deal with him," he shouted, pointing at the dark elf general.

Both he and the elf had become separated from their units during the encounter. The elf closed in again, seemingly indifferent to the cries of his elves being cut down as they fled from the Firehammers. Morgrim trusted his dwarves not to interfere in their fight now - it was a personal challenge.

Sparks flew as the elf's blade clattered off his own. Parry. Parry. Mind the lizard. Swing. Sneaky thrust? Ah, no luck there. Parry again.

The elf was proving hard to pin down. The lizard held most of Morgrim's attention - he kept letting the creature bite his armour in order to get an opportunity at the elf, but he just couldn't turn those opportunities into successful blows.

***

Master B'tor was having as much trouble trying to hit the dwarf. His raging lizard was barely under control now. Every time an opportunity to strike presented itself, the blasted creature was in the way, ineffectually savaging at the dwarf like an excited dog with a bone. But there was nothing for it - he couldn't dismount now and besides - he didn't have the time. The damned dwarves had routed his crew and would no doubt be closing in on him. He needed to kill this dwarf and he needed to do it quickly.

"Out the way, retard!" he barked, thumping the neck of his mount with the pommel of his sword.

***

Rallying Phase


The Arrowheads, finding themselves cold, wet and hungry, but ultimately safe on the south of the river, relax and rally.

Actions
Airbornegrove:

A2C
Rallied


***

Rogaine looked down at his challenger. A wounded boar thrashed and squealed, its lifeless rider  jerking like a broken marionette against the other dead.

The dwarf was still breathing, but Rogaine could see there was no pain. This was a curious dwarf - his beard had been dyed blue. In this case, the dwarf had not been a worthy adversary, so he warranted no eye contact or special treatment.

He can die by himself.

Surveying the battlefield, the orc general could see the battle was all but over. The dwarves still held a nominal line along the south bank of the river, but they were too far away to be of consequence now. They didn't appear to be mobilising, which suggested they also realised the show was over.

Rogaine tugged on the rein, bringing the boar to face the two last combatants. A bloody dwarf versus a bloody elf. Although, technically, he was working for the elf, he had not been impressed with the performance of the elven force.

If your boys don't perform, its your fault, not theirs. 

And they hadn't performed. He watched as the dwarf commander's bodyguard formed up again, having confirmed that all the elves they had overrun were dead.

Of course, he'd have to accept that his boys hadn't performed well either, but he had plans to remedy that. Because that would be my fault. Any of the orcs that hadn't been killed were in line for a serious arse kicking that night. So many orcs had run away that he wasn't sure if he was at a battle or a marathon.

The groan of an orc came to his ears. He looked around and saw one of his boar boys struggling to get up. A quick lash of his cruel scimitar separated the orcs head from his body.

"That's for running away earlier. Don't do it again."

Looking back at the lone combatants, Rogaine made a decision.

What the hell. I'll just kill both of them.

***
Battle Navigator

Turn 9 (you are here)

Friday, 29 March 2013

Battle Report: The Bridge Over the River Chai - Turn 8

Wait.

What's this?

Turn 8?

Turn 8 indeed. Please stand by whilst those new to oldhammer finish convulsing after their aneurysms.

...and we're not done yet.

The eighth turn was short and brutal. Again: lots of running. Shortly, you will see a picture describing the moves. There are words on that picture. Six of them are "Flee!" Four of them are "Charge!"

Anyway, this is how the turn started:

The turn starts like this

Movement Phase

The Dark Elves, still under control of the GM at this stage, charge the newly revealed Firehammers as the Mystic Mist that had confounded them so last turn dissipates. 

The Ironaxes line Wineghum up for a charge, but their stumpy little legs fail them at the last moment! Failing their charge, the dwarves find themselves stranded between what might be described as a rock and a hard place, where rock=Rogaine and hard place=Wineghum. Both declare a charge! 

Now let it be said that the dwarves are renowned for being doughty, stoic and thoroughly reliable - when it comes to the two legged variety of enemy. Wineghum's giant spider, having twice as many legs as the already terrifying horses the dwarves are so suspicious of, scared the shit out of them. 

The dwarves flee.

Unfortunately, the same stumpy legs that got them into this mess failed to get them out of the mess as both chargers make contact. Rogaine and his Grand Hareline cull three of the little buggers with their free hacks. 

Actions
GM:

MB
Charged @ F, moved 8"
SQC
Charged @ F, wheeled left 1.5", moved forward 6"
Airbornegrove:

F
Stand & shot @ MB, grenade deviated and missed
I
Charged @ W, unformed, routed
A2C
Routed, moved 3" @ difficult ground
S
Reformed
Thantsants:

W
Charged @ I, persued @ I, moved 7", wounded 1
RGH
Charged @ I, persued @ I, wheeled left 2", moved forward 6", wounded 2
GF
Routed, moved 7"
RLR
Routed, moved 8"
K3C
Routed, moved 7"
WoP
Routed, moved 10"




Shooting Phase

Well - there's not really much to say about the shooting phase. Both the dwarves and the orcs have missile units fleeing. Coupled with the orcs running out of war machines as they have been, they orcs can only offer a poor and desperate bolt thrower shot that swings wide of its mark.

The dwarves, however, claim some scalps by continuing their barrage on the orc artillery positions, killing three. To add insult to injury, a black orc is shot in passing.

Actions
Airbornegrove:

A2C
Shot @ GF, wounded 1
BT
Shot @ SC, missed
E
Shot @ SC deviated @ SCC, MMC, wounded 1, 2
Thantsants:

SC
Shot @ S, missed




Combat Phase

Unfortunately for the Ironaxes (compromised as they are by fleeing) are unable to offer any real resistance to Rogaine or even Wineghum. The dwarves are savaged and dispatched. There were no survivors. 

Filled with hatred for Morgrim, Master B'tor wastes no time in engaging the dwarf leader. Vivid manifestations of rage and wrath - sparks fly as the two smite each other. In the end, Master B'tor overcomes Morgrim, scoring a wound on the beleaguered dwarf. 

Ultimately, the Dark Elves win the fight, but are unable to rout the dwarves. The elves wrap around, trying to press their advantage home. 

Actions

W, RGH vs I
Round 1

Free Attacks
A1 I5
Rogaine -> Dwarf4
A2 I4
Rogaine -> Dwarf4 (1W)
A3 I3
Rogaine -> Dwarf2 (1W)
A1 I3
W -> Dwarf3 (1W)
Round 2

Free Attacks
A1 I5
Rogaine -> Dwarf1 (1w)
MB, SQC vs F
Round 1

Modifiers
MB
charged
SQC
charged
F
none
Attacks
A1 I10
Parried
A2 I9
MB -> MI
A3 I8
MB -> MI
A4 I7
MB -> MI
A1 I6
DE2 (std) -> Dwarf11 (1W)
A1 I6
DE3 -> Dwarf8
A1 I6
DE4 -> Dwarf4
A1 I4
MB <- MI
A2 I3
MB <- MI
A3 I2
MB <- MI
A1 I2
MB <- Dwarf2 (std)
A1 I2
DE4 <- Dwarf4
A1 I2
DE3 <- Dwarf8 (1W)
A1 I1
MB's mount -> Dwarf2 (std)
A4 I1
MB <- MI
A2 I1
MB's mount -> Dwarf2 (std)
Results
MB, SQC
+1 (standard) +1 (charged) +1 (ranks) +1 (wounds) = 4
F
+1 (standard) +1 (ranks) +1 (wounds) = 3
Round 2

Modifiers
MB
follow-up
SQC
follow-up
F
none
Attacks
A1 I9
MB -> MI
A2 I8
MB -> MI
A3 I7
MB -> MI (1W)
A4 I6
MB -> MI
A1 I6
DE2 (std) -> Dwarf10
A1 I6
DE3 -> Dwarf8 (1W)
A1 I6
DE4 -> Dwarf4
A1 I6
DE9 -> Dwarf10
A1 I6
DE10 -> Dwarf9
A1 I6
DE11 -> Dwarf2 (std)
A1 I4
MB <- MI
A2 I3
MB <- MI
A3 I2
MB <- MI
A1 I2
DE11 <- Dwarf2 (std)
A1 I2
DE4 <- Dwarf4
A1 I2
DE10 <- Dwarf9
A1 I2
DE2 (std) <- Dwarf10
A1 I1
MB's mount -> Dwarf2 (std)
A4 I1
MB <- MI
A2 I1
MB's mount -> Dwarf2 (std)
Results
MB, SQC
+1 (standard) +1 (follow-up) +1 (ranks) +2 (wounds) = 5
F
+1 (standard) +1 (ranks) = 2



***

Blimey! He's back. 

Morgrim planted his feet firmly as he watched Master B'tor lower his lance.

The elf clearly didn't get the message the last time. 

Morgrim's ribs still ached with every move and his breathing was laboured. There was no chance of him repeating his previous stunt of taking the lance in the chest.

The commander of the dwarves shook his head. He hated cavalry. But, it'll have to be the lizard, he thought.

With slow deliberation, Morgrim unclipped the pouch on his belt and removed a hand grenade. As the elf kicked the cold one into action, Morgrim casually leaned back and lit the grenade on the cigarillo of one of his dwarf colleagues - this other dwarf nodding in agreement.

Don't fail me now, he thought as he kissed its side.

Using a gentle underhanded throw, the grenade floated through the air, only to bounce awkwardly off a tiny pebble and ricochet down the gradual slope of the field towards the river. Excellent dwarven engineering had produced an almost perfect sphere - exactly the sort of thing that would roll down an even slope well - even with the slightest momentum. So it was that the grenade rolled some fifteen or so feet away before exploding spectacularly and harmlessly.

Morgrim cursed as he watched the dramatic figure of the dark elf punch through the smoke and dust, his murderous intent clear.

We'll just have to do it the hard way, then. 

He raised his sword to shoulder height. He could feel the elf searching his face, trying to make eye contact - trying to penetrate the dwarf with his hate and anger. But in order to survive this encounter, Morgrim knew he'd need to concentrate. The real fight here was now with the lizard. Once the lance was out of the equation - well, that was a different story.

***

Master B'tor relished every uneven bounce of his cold one mount. Cold ones lacked the simple elegance of horses, but the enormous comfort taken from their long strides compared to the violent bouncing of a galloping horse made it much easier to focus on the fight.

He knew better than to expect the dwarf to try the same tactic as the last time. He had felt the impact on the dwarf and could not believe the dwarf had not taken serious injury in that fight. That both had returned to fight each other was very respect worthy, he thought. He was proud he had overcome the loss of his foot and in a way, he was proud that the dwarf still stood - about to receive his just desserts.

But too late did the elf understand the dwarf's plan. Closer and closer came the tip of the lance, until the dwarf darted right into the path of the cold one. The lance, already dangerously close to the ground, tracked the dwarf right up until the shaft clattered into the raging beast's shoulder, kicking the lance out sideways and down. It was all Master B'tor could do not to stab the thing into the ground and vault over the bloody little dwarf.

***

Morgrim launched himself straight at the head of the cold one, which regardless of its owner's desires was planning on meeting him halfway. It's great teeth snapped shut on the inbound blade, stopping the swing completely and causing all parties to come to a halt. Pulling the sword down, Mogrim twisted the head of the cold one sideways and started pulling the creature around. The stupid creature, enraged as it was, didn't think to let go of the blade, but tried to shake its head in order to free it up. It was long past the point of feeling pain as its blood started to run freely through brutal teeth.

***

Master B'tor clicked his teeth in frustration. The dwarf was using the stupidity of the cold one and his diminutive stature to keep the creature's head in between himself and the elf. B'tor dropped the lance in favour of his more versatile sword, which he poked over his left arm in a desperate attempt to find the dwarf.

***

Morgrim suddenly understood the old saying of 'swinging a tiger by the tail.' Whilst he wasn't altogether sure what a tiger was (that being a key element preventing him from understanding the proverb before), he was fairly sure that once one stopped swinging the proverbial tiger around, it would be both angry and capable of divesting the swinger of his life. So it was with the cold one.

As if on cue, the cold one suddenly let go of the blade, pink foam scattering from its torn lips as it shook its head. Morgrim skirted anti-clockwise around the left as the elf guided the creature in a full clockwise turn to the right.

Morgrim easily parried the dark elf's blade as it shot directly at the dwarf when the two came abreast again, before swinging at the elven commander's sword arm. The blow was clumsy and passed under the limb - the elf displaying no effort at all in his evasion.

***

Master B'tor smiled as the dwarf blade sailed beneath his arm. He hadn't expected it, but he could capitalise on it. He released his grip on the reigns, allowing them to slither through his open hand, creating a slack unwise for the riding of cold ones. But he followed this up by throwing his balance over to his right, allowing him to apply all his now unsupported weight to his sword arm.

Gravity took hold. To everyone else, it would look as if the elf was falling from the lizard. Master B'tor twirled the sword in his hand - the blade now pointing down.

The blade bit deep into the exposed flesh where Morgrim's shoulder met his neck. Catching himself in at the very last second, Master B'tor's left hand snapped shut on the reigns, stopping his fall. He pushed down on the blade, causing it to bite even deeper, but also allowing him to force himself upright against the solid bulk of the dwarf.

Blood sprayed as the blade came free.

***

For the second time in his career Morgrim felt the sting of a blade pass through his shoulder, caused by an elf on high. The sheer surprise of the event caused his legs to fold under him, leading him to sit clumsily on the floor. Worse was the warm burst of blood that followed the withdrawal of the blade, splashing his cheek and into his left eye.

He cried out in pain and shock as he watched the cold one skitter away, before turning to face him once again.

***

Magic Phase


Hang on - where's the reserve phase! I expect a full report!

Ah. About that. Although reserves form a huge part of the manoeuvrability aspect of 3rd edition, units cannot reserve move if they're subject to compulsory movement or within 4" of an enemy unit. At this stage, anyone eligible for reserves just had no interest in going anywhere.

As for magic, Wineghum passes his intelligence test and is able to cast Strength of Combat - a personal effect spell that increases his strength by 1.

Don't look at me like that - +1S is very valuable, you know. At least its not Mystic Mist.

Actions
Thantsants:

W
Casted Strength of Combat, +1 Strength, 4 MP remaining