So, having read some of the Mordheim background story, and perused the wonderful illustrations that accompany the various documents, I have formed my own image of the City of the Damned. Rather than being the backdrop to a bunch of mercenaries licentious escapades, I invision Mordheim as a sentient, powerful and (most of all) sinister monstrosity in its own right: a monstrosity that preys on the greedy scavengers it lures in with wyrdstone.
To this end, I want to make rules that make the city itself more dangerous, but at the same time leave the warbands unsuspecting til it is too late. The first step I have made in this direction is my own weather table. I hadn't been able to find an official one of these (though I didn't look very hard), so I made my own. Comments and critique are welcome!
Just like any other geographical location, the City of the Damned, is afflicted by the weather. Nonetheless, a seasoned adventurer who has experienced normal precipitation may find themselves unprepared for the conditions found within the city limit. Just like everything else that comes in contact with the ruin and corruption of those wyrdstone laced avenues, those climes found within have been twisted by the forces of chaos so that even the rain is your enemy.
Before each battle begins, roll 2d6 on the following table, then consult the rules listed for those weather conditions. This roll is taken after a scenario has been chosen, but before any
terrain has been placed.
2 .... Weird
3 .... Snow
4 .... Windy
5 .... Heat
6–8 . Normal
9 .... Fog
10 .. Rain
11 .. Flood
12 .. Weird
A terrain feature that provides shelter is one that has a roof or overhang that could protect a warrior from falling rain. Players should be able tor each some consensus on which locations are sheltered and which are not.
Whatever clouds are passing over the quarter of the city the warband have met in has been thoroughly perverted. Rather than produce normal precipitation, an assortment of bloodshot eyeballs, mutant lizards, frenzied fish, and little green wheels are lobbed from the heavens.
Warriors must take a leadership test in order to advance from shelter. If the pass, they may move as normal. Failure indicates that the warrior refuses to leave whatever cover they have taken, but may move as long as they do not leave shelter.
Just about every surface in the ruins has been covered by a foot or two of what looks and feels like snow. Funny though, how it smells like cooked meat and burnt hair...
All warriors suffer -1 to their movement characteristic for the duration of this battle.
All warriors count as being in cover, thanks to the ability to duck into the snow.
The very stones and timbers of the condemned city seem to shake and moan as a violent wind tears through them. It's almost as if the very souls of those devastated by the twin tailed comet are crying out.
-1 to hit with ranged weapons throughout the battle, as missiles are cast astray by the wind.
-1 to the leadership characteristic of all henchman: superstitious fellows that they are.
Dry, evil heat has descended like a blanket over this region of Mordheim, and the men can feel it drying them out like leathers left out in the sun. Every step kicks up a small puff of ashen dust, which twists itself into feverish shapes.
-1 to the initiative characteristic of all warriors, as they suffer in the heat.
Just another day in the City of the Damned. It's not exactly nice, but at least the weather is one less thing to worry about. Perhaps this is just the calm before the storm...
No special effect
The city streets are choked with a dense, claustrophobic mist that hangs in the air like a leaden curtain. Sound echoes creepily far beyond one's range of vision and your men swear that they espy faces leering out at them from the gloom.
Subtract 1 from a warriors roll to overcome an Old Battle Wound for this battle, as the moist ague of the air makes them ache.
Vision is restricted to 12 inches, or half of whatever range is outlined by a specific scenario.
Just as battle is about to be joined, the clouds open up to reveal a monstrous downpour. The rain, clattering off of rooftops and rubble, is reddish in hue and tastes suspiciously... bloody. The air crackles with electrical power and the smell of brimstone is in the air.
Stepping out of shelter immediately soaks any black powder, rendering black powder weapons useless for the remainder of the battle.
Warriors on any rooftop (or suitably high terrain piece) may be struck by lightning. Roll d6 at the beginning of their movement phase. On a 1 they suffer a d5 hit with no armor save. If the warrior is wearing heavy armor, the the strength is 7.
Some cataclysmic rainfall or an overflow in the river Stir has filled this lowlands section of the city with water. The entire ground floor is submerged, and a swift current pulls away loose bits of masonry and the corpses of those who have fallen to the cities evil streets.
At the beginning of the battle, use a scatter die (or any other means) to determine the direction the water is flowing.
If any warrior finds himself on the ground, they have entered the water and are now swimming. Warriors in heavy armor must make an initiative test or be knocked out of actions. Stunned warriors who enter the water are automatically out of action.
At the beginning of their movement phase, any warriors who are swimming are swept d6 inches in the direction of the current.