Monday, September 13, 2010

Month 1 Week 2 - Incidental Enemies

Though Grey Seer Malkrit's attempted ambush on the High Elves had failed, his kind are not known for dwelling on their defeats, and so the Skaven commander was hatching another devilish scheme.

Returning breathless one night, his Gutter Runner scouts had reported a sizable caravan of foreigners travelling towards the northern barrowlands. In addition to the supplies, slaves and the promise of an easy victory to bolster morale such a target represented, his keen-nosed scouts had detected the scent of warpstone!

This opportunity could not have come at a better time, for the Council of Thirteen's minions had come once more to exact their punishing tithe of warptokens on his force. The time had come to act.

As his army formed up in their path under the cover of darkness, he discovered something amiss however- the caravan's wagons were not carriages piled high with food and trade goods as expected, but disguised war chariots drawn by unliving Skeletal Steeds, while the caravan's numerous guards and followers were grim Skeleton warriors swathed in cloaks.

Surprising though the discovery was, it made little difference to Malkrit. The Council would have their warpstone, or have his hide for it. His preference was clear.

The Blockade

As the Skaven scurried to form a blockade across the their path, Ramses' silent army fanned out into a battle line without missing a step.

Skeletons and chariots aplenty form a battle line.

The Undead find their path blocked by a horde of ratmen in a looting frame of mind.

Whiskered snout and grinning skull face off across the battlefield.

Eager to prove he did not fear the unnatural enemy army, Malkrit ordered his Clanrats forward, bearing him towards the undead line on his mighty Screaming Bell. Surging forward enthusiastically, they made up the heart of the Skaven advance, while other units cautiously brought up the flanks.

Malkrit leads the way! What a rat.

As ever, the magical Storm Banner was unfurled to cover the Skaven advance from the hail of missiles the Tomb Kings were bound to unleash upon them.

The sight of the ominous bulk of the Screaming Bell approaching stirred something in Ramses' centuries-dead heart, however. Leveling the rune-bound Spear of Antharak at the Skaven war machine, he signalled a headlong charge, certain his fell presence alone would prevent the Skaven from engaging his chariot bodyguard from the flanks.

Like a bolt from the blue, Ramses and his men tore into the Clanrats, hewing left and right. Yet Ramses himself was unconcerned with the Skaven rank-and-file; his target was Malkrit himself, and bellowed his challenge at the Grey Seer.

Aware of the hundreds of pairs of yellow eyes that waited for his reaction, Malkrit took a gamble on the protective magics that enshrouded his Bell, and accepted.

Ramses and Malkrit fight man to rat.

His gamble was a poor one however, and with a series of deft swings, the Grey Seer tumbled from his lofty perch.

Rightly shaken by the loss of their brave leader, both units of Skavenslaves shied away from attacking the flanks of Ramses' unit.

If a lord should perish, what chance does a slave have? The Skavenslaves refuse to engage.

Sensing weakness in the enemy, the rest of the Undead army surged forward to capitalize on the Skaven army's indecision.

From deep within the Tomb King lines, the Screaming Skull Catapult refused to fire as its crewmen fumbled the shot. The sightless Skeleton Archers had no such problems, and culled a handful of Skaven from amongst the verminous swarm.

Where the Slaves had faltered in the face of the enemy however, the Plague Monks, frothing with nameless diseases, had no such complications. Brandishing filth encrusted weapons, they charged headlong into Ramses' bodyguard, whose attack had lost impetus now they were locked in combat.

Seriously pissed off Plague Monks attack the Chariots flank, after the Slave traffic jam abates.

With the putrid ratmen in their flank, Ramses and his bodyguard fared a good deal worse. Before long, just Ramses and his chariot remained, battling defiantly against the horde.

Elsewhere, a unit of Skavenslaves charged headlong into Prince Seti's Charioteers, who held against their charge. Try as they might, they could not inflict telling damage against the Chariots, and were wiped out by the Ushabti that thundered into their flank.

Then, with a dread tolling that echoed across the battlefield, a maelstrom of magical power erupted from the Screaming Bell, sending arcing bolts of infernal energy into the ranks of the Tomb King army.

The lightning struck down a great many of Ramses's army, including Setep, who tumbled from his saddle. Even Imhotep cowered before the magical firestorm, narrowly escaping destruction by seeking the shelter of his Skeleton archers, who shielded him from harm.

Eager to inflict further damage on the enemy, Warlock Engineer Kritislik let fly with a deadly accurate Doomrocket, which landed square in the middle of the Skeleton Spearmen, who were reduced to a mere handful of warriors.

10,000 years of war never prepared the Skeleton Spearmen for devastation like this.

But it was too little too late to carry the day, for the Tomb Kings had also inflicted telling damage on the Skaven army.

As dawn came, both armies regrouped and quit the battlefield, having inflicted heavy losses on their opposite number, but having not quite driven them from the field.

Result: Draw

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Month 1 Week 2 - For The Blood Of Our People

At the witching hour, as men drowsed at their posts and blinked blearily into the gloom, half-blinded by their own torches, they came.

Cloaked in the chill darkness, a picked team of Shades crept through the copse of trees, ever closer to the human Archers stationed the small hill.

"Be vewy vewy quiet... we're hunting Archers..."

With them was an Assassin, whose midnight robes concealed an array of deadly throwing stars that gleamed darkly with bloodlust.

He raised a fist, and the shadowy company raised their soot-blackened crossbows.


In an instant, the biting cold wind had turned into jagged bolts.

Men screamed and died, riddled with barbed arrows. The remainder stood in shock as shadows coalesced into the forms of charging elves, drawing forth long curved blades for the kill.

Sneaky sneaky sneaky... At this range, the Archers haven't a prayer.

The slaughter lasted mere seconds, and the sight of the carnage sent a nearby unit of village militia fleeing in horror back to the safety of the houses.

"We're under attack! Let's er... go tell the others!"

One unit cut to ribbons and another panicking... "Screw this, let's go pick mangoes instead."

But tough conditions breed hardy men, and the commotion had alerted the Archers stationed in the chapel.

Lit by the torches of the men they had killed, the Shades proved easy targets for the Archers. They loosed a cloud of arrows into the murderous Druchii, slaying two where they stood.

Pinned down by unrelenting volleys of arrows from the chapel, the Shades consolidated, taking potshots at militiamen from the cover of the hill and the wooden shack built on it.

It's hard to see from here, but that chapel's buzzing with angry archers.

Determined to drive the invaders back, a squad of villagers clambered up the hill, only to be met with a hail of crossbow bolts and throwing stars at pointblank range, scything them down where they stood.

"Drive them back! For the EmpirraaaaaGGGHH!!!"

But with dawn fast approaching, the assassin cursed and blew on his horn, summoning the rest of raiders from their prepared positions.

Hearing the signal, Aedan's Dark Riders and cruel Corsairs marched swiftly in for the kill, and for a moment, it seemed the Archer's valiant actions would succeed only in delaying the inevitable.

Corsairs march on Grigor's Folly, curved blades a-whicker with excitement...

...while Aedan and his Dark Riders gallop in like Mexican banditos.

But dawn brought hope for Grigor's Folly as Boyar Ivann Borislav and his mounted command crested the hill, riding hard for the village.

Spot the Kislev reinforcements way over there? Ok I should have taken the pic from the other side.

Sighting the arrival of enemy reinforcements, the Archers in the chapel loosed their bows at the Dark Riders, slaying a handful even as they rode near.

The two forces met in the village clearing. Spurring his steed on, Ivann drove his depleted wedge of Gryphon Legion into the Corsairs, who drew their wicked blades and met their charge.

The Kislevites fought like men possessed, lashing out with their flanged maces at the Dark Elves. Incredibly, the Corsair's nerve broke in the face of their assault and were scattered by the triumphant horsemen.

Don't mess with Kislevites before their morning vodka.

With only his faithful banner bearer left by his side, Ivann nonetheless declared a charge on Aedan's Dark Riders.

Sensing the tide of battle turn against him, Aeden chose not to meet his charge.

Instead he called for his elves to withdraw, leaving the village safely in the hands of the Empire and the Assassins and Shades to melt back into the shadows from whence they came.

Result: Empire victory

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Month 1 Year 1 - The Dead Walk

Whilst the younger races battled amongst themselves, older, stranger forces were enroute to Greywater Reach.

From their desert fastnesses, the dread Tomb Kings of Khemri had travelled to the Old World for their own secret ends.

Using a World Gate - a forgotten relic of the Old Ones - they arrived in force in Greywater. From the gaping portal of blackness that yawned open in the ruins of Castle Heinholm, flocks of carrion emerged, borne aloft on rotting wings to reconnoitre the land.

Yet their motives were not unknown to the ever-vigilant eyes of Dulan, Slaan Lord of the pyramid temple of Tzulanz, who had sensed disturbances in the primordial ley lines caused by their use of the Old One's teleportation magic

Sending forth great numbers of his own skink scouts through a portal powered by his own magic, he hoped to learn the whereabouts of the undead interlopers and prevent them from further disturbing the world's geomantic web

Hampered by the obfuscating sorceries of Hierophant Imhotep, many Skinks fell prey to the voracious undead predators, who swooped down upon them from above.

Terrified by their horrifying appearance - and awful smell no doubt - a number of Skinks leg it.

Snipe for your life!

Yet what they lack in brute strength, the race of Skinks more than make up for with determination
, and Dulan gleaned from their minds the whereabouts of the Undead host.

When push comes to shove, you never sell a Skink with a sharp stick short.

The Red Dawn

At daybreak, Lord Dulan gathered his warhost about him and marched on the Undead camp, seeking to rout the foe using the element of surprise.

But the Tomb Kings of Khemri are meticulous planners who have witnessed an age of warfare and destruction, and had prepared well in advance for a hostile reception.

As the Lizardman army formed up to attack, they found the Undead standing ready, a hundred grinning skulls staring at them through sightless eyes. It seems long-dead warriors who need neither rest nor sustenance are hard to catch unawares.

Anchored by an unyielding centre of spearmen, Ramses seized the initiative and waved his massed Chariots and Skeletal Heavy Cavalry forward in a grand pincer movement.

Get them! As the Lizardmen march onto the field, the Undead surge forward.

The charge of the bony brigade.

Cackling missiles hurled from a Screaming Skull catapult culled several unlucky Skinks and Saurus; in response, the Lizardman host returned fire in earnest, sending a handful of Skeleton Warriors back to eternal rest.

Help! It's raining burning craniums!

As the Children of the Old Ones moved to meet their foe however, an ominous rumbling echoed from deep beneath the earth.

With a spray of earth and an unearthly scream, a pair of Tomb Scorpions burst from the ground to charge Chief Xialan, whose Terradon mount shied away from the beasts and fled.

Seizing the chance to rid himself of a problematic opponent, Setep propelled his Light Skeleton Horsemen into the fleeing chief, driving him from the field.

Steeling himself, Laolan the Skink Priest led his Skink Cohort in brave charge into the rear of the Scorpions. Though their short blades could do little to the calcified chitin of the Scorpions, the beasts themselves struggled to turn to face their foes and soon collapsed from their determined assault.

And THAT'S for scaring Xialan away...

On the other flank, Ramses and Prince Seti thundered into the Kroxigor on their resplendent Chariots, routing the huge Lizardmen with cleaving swings of their ensorcelled weapons.

Simultaneously, the towering Ushabti broke into a loping run, huge ceremonial blades levelled at Lord Dulan's own Temple Guard. Unbowed by the sight of their attackers, the tough veterans locked shields and held firm against their charge.

Then disaster struck as Laolan, flushed with success, attempted a difficult spell. With a ripping noise that clawed at the senses, a daemonic claw tore its way into reality, sending the Skink Priest reeling into unconsciousness.

Stemming The Tide

Sensing the strands of fate turning against him, Lord Dulan quieted his mind, rousing himself into action with a mighty magical fusillade.

Tracing arcane symbols in the air with dextrous, many-jointed hands, he first sent a flock of spectral crows into the carrion, tearing apart the abominations with beak and claw.

Turning, Dulan infused Bokalan, leader of his Temple Guard, with the rage of a wild beast. Wreathed in a crackling corona of arcane energy, he tore into the Ushabti with renewed vigour, scattering their remains to the wind with broad sweeps of his ponderous halberd.

Finally, exerting his will, he halted Ramses's Chariots with an arcane barrier that froze them in place, preventing them taking further part in the battle.


"Oh no you don't". It's amazing what a frog can achieve when it's angry enough.

Spurred by their Lord's power, the Skink cohorts rallied around their mighty Kroxigor cousins and drove into Ramses's Heavy Cavalry, destroying them in a swirling melee.

After dirty big Scorpions, what's a couple of skellies, eh?

Both armies having suffered telling damage, the battle slowed to an exchange of missiles as the sun sank into the horizon.

Come nightfall, both forces pulled back to regroup and fight anew at dawn.


Thursday, March 18, 2010

Month 1 Year 1: Grigor's Folly

Lord Valkith's Dark Elf host landed at Splinter Point, approaching the hapless town of Grigor's Folly from the south.

When his scouts brought word of the town's inadequate defences, the lord of House Vae split his army into two, the better to secure the village by stealth.

Under the leadership of his battle standard Aedan, a force of Shades, Corsairs, Dark Riders and Warriors set out to capture Grigor's Folly. Their orders were simple: Take the town by night, burn no buildings and leave no traces that Dark Elves had spirited away its inhabitants.

Their assault was intended as much to sow fear into the hearts and minds of other settlements as it was to secure their primary objective - human slaves destined for the blood-soaked meat markets of Naggaroth.

The rest of his army advanced to the rear, together with slow-moving supply wagons and his Reaper batteries.

Meanwhile, Lady Elissa had received word of the plight of Grigor's Folly. Deciding that the direct course of action - to march with all haste to the defense of the villagers - would likely be second-guessed by the cunning foe, she dispatched her bloodthirsty uncle Ivann Borislav and a small cohort to defend the village, trusting him to abandon them to their fate should the Druchii attack in force.

In the meantime, she marched the rest of her command hard into prepared positions to hit the Dark Elves while they were busy razing the town.

Yet her decision to use the hapless peasants of Grigor's Folly as bait had rankled Knight Captain Johann, commander of her bodyguard.

Secretly, he gathered to his side a hand-picked band of like-minded soldiery and set out to delay the advance of the Dark Elf army.

Battle is joined

Outnumbered twice over by the sprawling Dark Elf train, Johann led his ragtag force personally into the fray.

Johann rides to his doom. Brave man.

Irked by their temerity, the Dark Elf army surged forward to sweep the enemy aside. The bold warriors of the Empire dug in their heels for the inevitable impact.

The Dark Elf battle line. Blimey there's a lot of them!

On the eastern flank, Valkith's Cold One Knights took heavy casualties from a fusillade of Outrider fire. With a curse, they levelled their lances and charged headlong into the Empire archers, who scattered rather than meet their charge, turning the Outriders' jubilation into panicked retreat in an instant.

Sensing doubt in the foe, the knights then singled out a regiment of Ulrican men-at-arms, and were countercharged in turn by a detachment of archers. Though their aim was true, luck had deserted them and the ferocious knights were pulled down by weight of numbers.

Bum rush the knights!

Elsewhere however, Lord Valkith mounted on his slavering Manticore proved a much tougher prospect, ending the threat of the Knight Captain and his mounted bodyguard with a well-placed charge into the rear of their formation.

Valkith and Manticore go RAWR.

Despite this, Johann's company continued to harry the advancing Dark Elf battleline, cutting down the unarmoured Hag Queen Kelindra and her Witch Elf Bodyguard, and slowing the Executioners. The Dark Sorceress Alariel too felt the sting of their uncannily accurate arrows, wounding her badly enough to force her to withdraw from the battle.

Chainmail bikinis vs firing squad. Ouch.

Encircled by Dark Elves. Not good...

Enraged by the humans' refusal to yield, Valkith stormed into the Huntsmen, taking a measure of vengeance for the loss of the Witch Elves.

Revenge! Om nom nom nom

Though Johann's own company had been reduced practically to nothing, their actions had taken a serious toll on the Dark Elves' progress.


Units successfully breaking the blockade:

Valkith on Manticore
Dark Elf Spearmen
Dark Elf Crossbowmen

Units stalled:

Kelindra Vae
Cold One Knights
Witch Elves

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Month 1 Year 1: Malkrit's Ruse

Ranging ahead of the main Skaven army, Gutter Runner scouts had alerted Grey Seer Malkrit to the presence of a powerful force of High Elves led by Prince Aethir of Caledor massing at a clearing near Graven Wood.

Sensing an opportunity for a devious ambush, the wily ratman sent his bloodthirsty Assassin Quickslit to ambush the High Elf mage Gilia Tsairith, who had been marching through Graven Wood with his bodyguard of Lothern Seaguard and Archers to join the main Elven contingent.

Anticipating the Elves' movements, Quickslit hid his handpicked Gutter Runner kill teams in the dense undergrowth of the forest, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Accompanying him was one of Clan Eshin's new innovations -- a towering Assassin Rat Ogre named Sneekrush. The abomination had had the brain of a failed assassin-aspirant transplanted in place of its own, woefully small brain, giving it elementary stealth skills and reasoning.

Taking decisive action, the gutsy Elves manage to evade the Skaven ambush, with Gilia's potent magical skills taking a toll on their would-be assassins. The wizard himself blasts Sneekrush with a spray of branches and woodland debris at pointblank range, leaving the monster floored and apparently dead.

Fearing the day is lost, Quickslit made a valiant last ditch effort, launching himself into Gilia's bodyguard, slaying elves left and right. But the stoic Elves close ranks around their leader, and the assassin is inevitably forced to flee.

In his haste to make good his escape, the assassin drops a precious clue: a map detailing the whereabouts of Grey Seer Malkrit's own army.

Armed with this valuable information, Gilia rejoined Prince Aethir's command, and the hunter now became the hunted.

Surprising Malkrit's army, the High Elves launched a deadly ambush of their own. Arrayed in marching column and unprepared for battle, the Skaven are attacked by Elven infantry on one side, and swift Dragon Princes and a White Lion Chariot on the other.

Elves to the left of them, elves to the right of them. Rats.

Elf infantry attacks one flank of the Skaven column...

... while Dragon Princes burst out of the woods using the Banner of Ellyrion. Sneaky!

Cornered, the ratmen launch a spirited counterattack, but in the end the Skaven are driven from the field, when Malkrit and his Stormvermin bodyguard break ranks, confronted by High Elves both to their front and rear.

The Skaven fight hard, but the Elves have them by the tail...

The High Elf ambush is not without cost however. Warlock Engineer Kritislik's infernal sorceries and Skryre-crafted wonder weapons leave a great many Elves burned and blasted.

Night falls and Malkrit and his lieutenants retreat into the darkness of the trees, plotting their revenge.

High Elf victory

The Campaign Map

WIP, please check back later

Vern's Tomb Kings

Faction goal:
To establish contact and an alliance with the Barrow Kings in the North.




Equipment/magic items: Shield, Great Weapon, Spear of Antharak, Scorpion Armor, Collar of Shapesh
Mount: Chariot

Unbelievable Bravery
Brillant Commander

Risk Lover
Careless with troops

Additional info:
Ramses is descended from Settra himself, however having such an illustrious ancestor has robbed Ramses of all ambitions (due to lack of advancement opportunities). He is contented to remain as a lesser tomb king as long as there are foes to kill and other forms of entertainment.

Personal (private) goal:
Capturing a female elf or human to sing for him back in the tombs.


SETI, Tomb Prince

Equipment/magic items: Chariot of Fire, Great Weapon, Sword of Might
Mount: Chariot of Fire

Expert Charioteer
Filial Piety
Brave Soldier

Unmotivated Prince
Makes mistakes in crucial moments
Bites off more than he can chew

Additional info:
Seti is supposed to be Ramses’ heir, but a twist of fate has led to Seti dying before his father in the Battle of the Golden Sands. Thus he was embalmed as a Prince and not as a King. As a result Seti wonders chow it feels to be a king.

Personal (private) goal:
To kill as many enemy heroes as possible to atone for his mistakes in earlier battles.


Equipment and magic items: Cloak of the Dunes, Hieratic Jar
Mount: none


Trusts subordinates too much
Frail body
Afraid to die

Additional info:
Imhotep likes to disguise himself as an old man and wander to the Araby towns for dice games and wine.

Personal (private) goal:
To discover a more efficient way to bind the dead of defeated foes to the will of the Tomb Kings.

SETEP, Liche Priest

Equipment and magic items: 2 Dispel Scrolls
Mount: Skeletal Steed

Good with magic missiles
Fellowship with troops (the still-sentient Tomb Guard)
Knowledge of foreign ways

Gungho in battle
Bad Planner
Too brave for a priest!

Additional info:
Setep secretly wants to attain the position of Hierophant.

Personal (private) goal: To become the new Hierophant!