Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Invasion of the Coasts: Part 9

Such a small town harbored a terrible secret or so Goethe was told from one of the marauder horsemen who was abandoned on the field from the last battle. It had seemed a charismatic leader had risen through the ranks claiming himself a prophet. A garrison of foolhardy empire troops fell prey to his fiery oratories and were now on the road to damnation to the ruinous powers... humans thought Goethe such simple beasts...

Apparently the garrison had marched into the capitol under friendly flags massacred the city militia and offered the peasants as a sacrifice to their gods. Letting roving bands of chaos warriors and demons to roam the country side as they finished their rituals involving some of treasures that Goethe had been so desperately seeking. The marauder had more to say but Geothe grew tired of the captive and simply cleaved him in two with a powerful swipe of his halberd.

"These fools meddle with powers they could not even comprehend..." Goethe could care less for the countless of innocents slain, but they sought to destroy certain magical treasures that could make more gateways for demons to flood the material plane. With grim determination Goethe donned his armor and told his personal guard "It is time to take what belongs to me! Assemble the army we march to riches!"

This was the third and final battle of the tournament and at this point I was quite tired, my last tournament was in August and it was for Dark Age/Infinity (both skirmish games). I was pretty optimistic despite visually seeing quite a few threats, when my opponent handed me his army list it looked like this:

Arch Lector w/ war alter, sword of power, shield of the gorgon and van horstman's speculum.
Warriors Priest w/ great weapon, armor of meteoric iron and icon of magnus
Battle Wizard w/ lvl 2, dispel scroll and wizards staff
Spearmen x22 w/ full command Detachments: Halberdiers x7 Halberdiers x10
Handgunners x10 w/ full command Detachments: Crossbows x5 Crossbows x5
Flagellents x16 w/prophet
Great Cannon x2
Goblin Hewer
Pistoliers x5 w/ champ
Pistoliers x5 w/ champ
Knights x5
Knights x5
Steam Tank

Looking over the army list I was quite puzzled with some choices he took but the two glaring things were mainly the Steam Tank and the War Alter two things I have never faced!

Magic: Sameth: Rule of Burning Iron, Commandment of Brass and Spirit of the Forge. Nimue rolled Chillwind and Black Horror. I believe that his Wizard rolled Commandment of Brass and another spell he never used.

Sorry guys unfortunately I did not take any pictures of this battle for a number of reasons, first it was late and I admit I was pretty tired. Second because of some scheduling error my opponent was brought in as a semi ringer with only half his army so I was facing half of a nicely painted army and some movement trays with dice... yes... So with that said the whole report will just be one flowing narrative.

The skies were a dark purple and red haze that blended into the horizon peals of lightning struck constantly and randomly. Even the air seemed thick and unnaturally humid as if reality was slowly starting to come apart one sense at a time. Goethe spat the foul magics of chaos were at work here, all along the country side the bodies of dead civilians were left there to rot strange markings carved into their skins.

Hymns of praise could be heard till finally Goethe caught a glimpse of his enemy, their skin was an unhealthy gray their once proud uniforms were covered in blood and their faces bore a blank expression as if they were drugged. At the center of the army Goethe could spot the ring leader that had started all this mess as he strode into battle among his chariot carrying a false idol of some sort of bovine creature. The impostor held up his book of flayed skin and preached to his followers hitting them with a cat nine tails as he rode by much to the delight or sometimes indifference of his followers.

* Deployment was rather simple all his fast stuff pistoliers and knights on my left flank his General in the center of the field (closer to the left flank though with the steam tank taking a slight lead) with all his infantry occupying the center. The right flank consisted of two cannons...

My deployment was Jotan facing off against his fast stuff more or less alone. Center was just about my whole army. Right flank was spearmen with Nimue, executioners, a unit of harpies and a chariot. I figured I would be able to turn a flank or at the very least detract some of his troops.

The field of battle had no hills but rather had many trees(note for some reason we didn't think they would be forests?) occupying the flanks with the center dominated by many pillars something of an alter.. how fitting..

Giving praises to their gods the misguided shuffled forward more content with casually strolling forward mutilating themselves than to get to grips with the enemy. Perhaps this led to the artillery crew to haphazardly load their guns more entertained with their own twisted visions than the enemy their shots going wildly off target. Daubed with bodily filth and ruins of horrific power the steam tank fired it's cannon as it's crew laughed maniacally as the ball went cruising through the regiment of dark elf crossbowmen.

The pistoliers once great nobles turned deviant followers of the dark powers rode through the forests firing their pistols at Jotan who simply flew higher with his pegasus avoiding the shots. Jotan gripped his lance and dove into the dumb founded pistoliers who found that their pistol's were too slow for the natural grace of an elf. Underneath his helm Jotan smiled as he gored one of the over indulgent nobles to his own mount, he drew his sword in one swift motion and set upon the other two nobles who fell off their mounts in pieces. The force of the pegasus' legs smashed in the helmet of another leaving one rather stunned survivor who attempted to flee but was cut down for his troubles.

Flying low Jotan retrieved his lance from a corpse and charged a second regiment of pistoliers who were powerless against the savagery of the elf. This time there were no survivors and all the young nobles lay in a tattered heap the price for serving the gods of chaos. Jotan laughed and flew into the dark skies to avoid retribution from the empire army, he only needed to get a bit closer to his target...

Elsewhere the knights raced down the field their once bright armor was filth encrusted and daubed with runes of devotion to their new prophet. They came across a cold one chariot who refused to move due to some pesky spell the opposing wizard cast on it. The elves jumped off the chariot just in time as the knights smashed it apart with their broadswords and continued into a unit of corsairs. Despite the ferocity of the knights the nimble elves managed to avoid the worst of it with only a few falling almost in twain. With a stern gaze Goethe made sure the corsairs did not even think of breaking the battle could be won or lost in the next few actions.

Goethe called for a charge against the foolish knight's flank despite their heavy armor the corsairs jumped and brought them down from their horses. Stabbing them in the joints of their armor till they stopped screaming their filthy armor given a new coat of blood their own.

Though the army of crazed men were without a doubt devoted to their leader they lacked the brilliance and cunning of the dark elves. In their rush to come to grips with the enemy they got in the way of their supporting artillery. The dark elves on the other hand held their center line still making the foolish humans run into the teeth of their fire paying the butcher's bill for their mistake. Bodies fell left and right punctured by the black bolts of the dark elf weapons, they hardly noticed trampling over their injured as they continued onwards.

On the right flank Nimue led the attack blasting the crossbowmen of the empire with bolts of pure energy. With all her might she fought through the magical defenses of the opposing wizard summoning a vortex of energy that sent most of the hand gunners into another dimension. Harpies came down attracted by the scent of blood and filth that filled the air. They swooped down on the cannon crew leaving a mound of half eaten flesh as they flew into the sky once more.

The prophet was too busy motivating his troops into higher depths of depravity to notice Jotan who thought it a perfect time to introduce himself. Jotan hovered a few feet from the war alter a golden calf emanated unholy energy that was getting stronger and stronger as battle raged all around. The prophet spoke in a booming voice "Unbeliever! Perish to the combined might of the pantheon of the most righteous!" Jotan reached into his bag and produced a glass orb with a liquid inside. Sameth had taken time to prepare the concoction and had instructed Jotan to use this against the source of the prophet's power.

Jotan swung his arm back menacingly as the prophet stopped talking and saw the danger to his war alter.. "NO!!! STOP HIM MY PETS!!" but it was too late Jotan had already thrown the orb at the golden calf. The prophet tried to jump and catch it but a life of gluttony has it's disadvantages. The orb hit the calf and shattered the liquid was set free in every direction even splashing the prophet himself. Within seconds smoke could be seen as it burned through the solid gold calf and the prophet who began to scream as it melted his body away. Jotan knew better than to stick around and took to the air once again as he heard reality buckle behind him within seconds there was silence again and there was no trace of the "prophet" or his golden calf.

Without their mighty prophet leading them it seemed as if many of the soldiers snapped out of the daze only to find themselves in a nightmare. Many began to wail and go crazy stabbing and slashing all those within arms length. Others began to weep and took their own lives. A teeming mass of uncontrollable emotions played at to the amusement of the dark elves who simply let the scene play out as they pushed passed and claimed their rightful prize...

This was a very interesting battle that I wish we had more time to play out, apparently we didn't notice the time and we only managed to play 2-3 turns? wow. I was deathly afraid of the steam tank but it turned out I didn't even get to face it. Since one turn he wanted to go for max steam points and was rewarded by rolling a 6 meaning it couldn't do a thing and it took a point of damage!

When we first started counting up points in my mind i thought we would draw as it didn't seem like a lot of points were scored. But when we added up the points it came up I only lost about 240 odd some points to 500+ points and an extra 100pts for a table quarter! Giving me a nice win on my record!

My scoring wasn't bad I expected to do slightly better in painting but other than that I placed in 7th or 8th I believe not bad going 1-1-1! When awards were given out they called my name and I wasn't paying attention as I didn't expect to win anything. As it turns out my opponents voted me as best sportsmen (must be all the off the cuff humor) I received a $35 gift certificate which I used to buy a battle wagon for my 40k army.

All and all a great tourney I had lots of fun and can't wait for the next fantasy tournament. On the horizon my orcs are being built for a fantasy escalation league that starts next week. I hope to post up a few pictures in a day or two stay tuned!

The black arks were still being loaded with fresh slaves and the magical treasures that he had so desperately sought. He stood looking into the horizon as the sun was setting the purple and the red meshing in the sky. A small grin was appearing on his face till a slave bumped into him, Goethe back handed the slave with his gauntlet almost knocking off his head. "Bring this sorry whelp to my chamber.. it will be many a lonely night back to the land of chill... pray you die pf my attentions on the first night".

No comments: