Toowoomba Campaign 2010 (BTB)

Here is the fluff behind my Gunnery School of Nuln warband for our BTB campaign that is starting this week.

Quote :

The stench of blood was in the air but the sound of battle had finally ceased. Senior Gunnery Officer Benedict von Neale hefted his mace over his shoulder and looked down at the body of the ogre. The foul beasts had ambushed the caravan in overwhelming numbers. They were far beyond the lands of the Empire and the Border Princes and the men knew that there would be no reinforcements. The fighting had been intense born out of the desperation to survive. Benedict looked around and noted that the attack had taken its toll as only a remnant of the caravan remained alive. The few survivors that could still stand were working their way through the carnage looking for other survivors whose injuries were more severe. He could see that most of the wagons were still in tact even though some of the horses and mules had been slaughtered. The ogres were not interested in gold and trade goods but in fresh meat. Human meat.

Benedict was near the head of the destroyed caravan and he now started walking back towards the centre. His squad of marksmen and pistoliers had been hired to guard the caravan. There had been promise of a rich payment at the successful return of the caravan from the distant land of Cathay. It was an odd assignment for teachers and students from the famous Gunnery School of Nuln. There had been little choice for him. Due to an unfortunate incident with some faulty pigeon bombs his options had been to either resign from his position at the school and live out his life in shame or to lead this expedition. The students who accompanied him were the near drop-outs from the school. They chose this journey over returning home as failures and bringing shame to their families. As Benedict worked his way through the dead men towards the small huddle of survivors he knew that many would now regret that decision.

As Benedict approached the group of injured men, Benson – the only other teacher who had chosen to join the squad – walked up beside him. Benson was an instructor at the school and a damn good one at that. Therefore it still puzzled Benedict as to why Benson had turned his back on the prestige of his position to join this group of rejects on this ludicrous mission.

“I have only counted eight of us capable of standing.” Benson whispered. “I've ordered two men to stand guard and the other four to come with me and attend to the wounded.”

Benedict nodded his head in agreement. There had been over two hundred men in the caravan from merchants to servants and guides to guards. The priority now was to save as many as possible and then to move on quickly as there were probably more ogres lurking in this area. His thoughts also turned to the wagons and the trade goods within. The odds were definitely against them but there was still the chance to reach Cathay and return home with silk and other exotic goods. Also, less men also meant that there would be less portions to give out and greater riches for all survivors. The lure of that fortune was still too great to resist...

Good beginning to the tale, though it looks bad for the survivors at the moment...

EXCELLENT BEGINNING! A small band of intrepid adventurers overcoming impossible odds in exotic settings is the stuff of true fantasy tales. Keep up the FINE WORK!

Thanks guys. This will probably be a fairly random thread that won't cover each battle.

The first battle of the campaign was between my Gunnery School of Nuln warband against the Black Dwarf warband in Horrors of the Underground. The Black Dwarfs were the defenders and started deep within the abandoned mine. They encountered the wyrm fairly early as a result and distracted it away from my warband for much of the battle allowing the Lone Squad to find a wyrm egg (that was scrambled and useless) and win. The Black Dwarfs lost two Informers which died from the vicious wounds inflicted by the wyrm. The Lone Squad lost an Underclassman who died at hands of a Warrior of Chaos after being separated from his warband and thrown in a ring.

Now for a battle report between Beastmen with the Mark of Onogal and the Restless Dead (written by the Beastmen player in this battle).

Quote :

Whispers were in the wind. Something was afoot... or was it? Those few warbands who were lucky or resourceful enough to have heard the whispers weren't going to sit idly by wondering. This is how the B'trark Gorehorns and the Liche Chronicles [okay, AA has named it the Vampire Chronicles, but there's a major flaw with that] encountered each other on an outlying Cathayan settlement - trying to gain information in any way they could.

The sun was pulling humidity from the bogs and acid pools this fine morning around this borderland settlement. The warm southerly breeze coming through open windows spread the sweet smell of breakfast throughout the stilted Cathayan huts, but did nothing to temper the humidity at all. One family was just sitting down to start eating when a polite knock came at the door...

Scraggly though he was (and what was that strange smell permeating his clothing?), the humans were willing to give some information to one of their own (Magnus, the Necromancer, gained 7 points from questioning two families, but when he tried to torture the second family for more information he was quite unsuccessful). These were tough villagers, used to living on the wild frontier, and were certainly not fond of Beastmen. Five of the six families living in this small community were questioned and tortured by the Beastmen, and only two families gave out any information and only as their children's lives were being threatened (Gaurin 2pts; Albrath 3 pts). But the real excitement of that day came when the two warbands crossed paths...

Now a large lake acid lake split this village in two, with two families living on the far side. Magnus the Necromancer was heading around this lake through a small patch of forest with two Zombie bodyguards. The keen ears of the Beastmen didn't dismiss the sound of dead twigs breaking, and the threesome were soon spotted and charged from both sides - Gaurin, the Beastman Chieftan and his warhound charged around from the East side of the lake, while Albrath, the frenzied Centigor and another warhound charged from the West. Luckily for the Necromancer, the haunted forest added extra protection, as one of the warhounds was spooked by the strange noises and refused to enter. Luck was certainly not with Gaurin, or maybe his pride was his downfall, for his wild swing missed the Zombie altogether and he was promptly knocked down in return. Albrath had better luck in his frenzied state, quickly taking a Zombie OOA, but this had little effect as the zombie was quickly reanimated by Magnus to rejoin the fray. Seeing Gaurin on his back, the cowardly Magnus also took the opportunity for an easy kill. And that is how, without landing a single blow, came the end of Gaurin - with no great deeds to his name. (BG loses 2 information points)

Outraged, Albrath stuns Magnus to the ground, but is unable to finish him off as one of the Zombies demands his attention. The reanimated Zombie attacks the brave warhound, who avoids injury and knocks the Zombie to the ground. The whimpering warhound meanwhile had issues of its own, as it was still too afraid to enter the forest and was then charged by a Grave Guard (Nicholas) and a Wight. Nicholas was quick to put an end to that battle, but could but sit and watch as the battle in the forest went on, lest he dare enter the acid lake in order to join the fray.

Further East, where a line of three houses stood including the longhouse of the village leader, the main bulk of both warbands stood glaring at each other. The Beastmen were the first to strike, but fear overcame the two Bestigors, leaving two Gors to make their run for glory. In their first rush, Kudu knocks down a wight, and Nyala does the same to a zombie. Their minor triumph is short-lived, as two Grave Guards and more zombies join the fray. Kudu is knocked down by Louis and put OOA by a zombie, and Armand does the same to Nyala, who manages to endure the hit a zombie puts on him. Seeing Kudu OOA, the two Bestigors charge Louis, who is put OOA and forced to miss the next game with an arm injury by Bragor.

Back in the forest, the brave warhound takes the knocked-down zombie OOA, while Albrath takes his zombie out with a critical hit. Albrath doesn't stop there taking Magnus OOA (LC loses 7 info points).

Refusing to let the loss of three of their own deter them, even if one was their leader, the Beastmen bravely hold out against the fear-causing undead. In the end, the Liche realised the game was lost - they had lost the information the were seeking, and there was no easy victory here - and withdrew his fledgling hoard in order to build up his strength. This one is willing to wait a long time for revenge...

So the question now is, will this fledgling Beastmen warband who have just lost their too-proud leader go running back to their woodland stronghold, or will their new Centigor cheiftan be sober and intimidating enough to hold them together and lead them to victory...?

B'trark Gorehorns found 3 treasures and 11 gold crowns; bought an unholy relic.

Liche Chronicles found 3 treasures, 7 gold crowns, and reanimated a corpse into a Zombie; bought a rabbit's foot (or lucky charm - one of them).

Very nice!

Will there be fairly random photos to go with it? Good job by the Beasts hanging on after the leader fell. (Killed by a Necromancer! The shame.)

Von Kurst wrote:

Will there be fairly random photos to go with it?

Depends on whether you enjoy seeing unpainted miniatures, lego buildings, flat green paper forests (maybe with the occassional lego tree) and muesli box castle walls!! Unlike I think many groups... all of our players are focused more on the game than the actual hobby (which is a shame as I'd love to play with painted warbands on a fancy gaming table).

I think that we will eventually get a few of the warbands painted (Sorcerous Society and Restless Dead) and we are gradually experiementing with better terrain but that will all take a long time. The most arty that I've gotten (beyond painting three of my miniatures once when I was at a mates house) is giving a dwarf axe to one of my humans and a dwarf double-barrelled pistol to another human.

He he!

The final battle of round one was between a Sorcerous Society warband and the second Beastmen Raiders warband. It was a Wyrdstone Hunt scenario and this battle report was again written by the player of the B'trark Gornhorns hence its bias (I think) to Beastmen and its mockery of the humans (all in good fun).

Quote :

"The Pious Turncoat"

The Order / Sorcerous Society / Celestial Protectorate verses Unnamed / Beastmen Raiders / Scion of Chaos

"We're going on a beast hunt," called one of The Order's greenhorn grunts, as much to bolster his own resolve as to improve that of the many other greenhorns around him. They echoed his cry with a little more spring in their step, feeling a little more confident that their righteousness would overcome any evil.

"We're gonna catch a big waaAAHH!" he squealed as he was charged by a wild boar, disturbed by the noisiness and proximity of the group. Scared as he was, the grunt jumped several feet in the air, avoiding the swipe of the boar's tusks. Luck was definitely with the greenhorn, for as he came back down with arms stretched out behind to break his fall, his dagger, which he had fotten to let go of, sliced through the tough hide of the boar to sever the spinal cord. The others crowded around to cheer and slap their friend on the back, but many, including the lucky grunt, were now looking quite pale as the boar's head trashed around in anger.

The warhound snarled at the raven as it alighted on a nearby ruin, but the scouting Gor at her side paid it little heed, more concerned with the haunting sounds coming from the patches of woodland. The unmistakable prickle of magic in the air brought the Gor to a stop as he fantically scanned the area for the hidden spellcaster. Seeing nothing, he made a dash for a nearby two-story ruin and began his ascent to the top - the best tactic in fighting a wizard is to get in close, but you need to know where they are in order to do that. Again the tingle of magic filled the air, but this time around the whimpering warhound who was left cowering at the base of the ruin. Two failed spells, praise Shornaal. The Gor reached the top of the ruin, careful to keep as much out of sight as possible. Carefully taking quick peeks over the edge, he scanned the area, seeing nothing more suspect than a cocky raven eyeing him with a gleam in his eye. Confused, the Gor huddled back down out of sight, accidentally disturbing some of the rubble in the process. Noticing something smooth and green in amongst the coarse debris, the Gor took a quick look a the jade carving before stuffing it into a pocket, to then stop suddenly and retrieve the piece back out. The carving was of some type of sorceress with an owl sitting on the top of her staff. The raven! The raven was a familiar and the spells were somehow being redirected through the raven. The Gor quickly returned the carving to his pocket and began the descent in order to report back to his Chieftan.

"Unholy intestines," muttered the magus as his second spellcasting attempt failed. He was still adjusting to having to cast through the eyes of Rannikin his raven familiar and the difference in vision was making his head start to ache. It didn't help that he was out in this forsaken set of ruins far from any civilised settlement. He would much rather be back in the library of the wizard's tower of Helyune researching more spells, but as his order demanded he must now take a sabbatical from his studies and put them to good use in restoring order where there is none. To spite his superiors, he simply named this rag-tag group of, in his opinion, talent-less humans, two guards (what were their names again? He never could remember) and three mages 'The Order', as putting any more effort into coming up with a suitable name was, he felt, beneath him. The devout mages at the compound of course thought this wonderful, believing the name a tribute to their order of orderliness, and at the same time ranking their order above all other orders. Niko Jr., as he was affectionately but begrudgingly known, didn't appreciate that his efforts had backfired, though he was probably the better off for it. Now Nicodemus Sebastian Albright is his name, and sharing a name with the Cursed Pilgrim himself is quite an unfortunate thing in an order fighting against chaos, with the name being a constant reminder of how careful one must be when dealing with magic and dark powers. He was quite sick of people coming up to him and reminding him to not following the paths of his namesake, and for anyone to think that he was the junior of anyone was quite irritating.

Now the other two mages, Sigmund the White and Rudolf the Grey, were less talented buy much more pious than Niko Jr., so he had to constantly remind himself to be careful - if he were too sacrilegious or too lenient on the unholy or not devout enough, he might find himself cast out all alone in this hell-hole of a region (a fate he'd rather avoid). Despite this, for now their presence in this hostile environment was welcome, knowing he could count on them to make themselves useful in the heat of battle. And it looked like that might come quite soon, and Rudolf and Niko Jr. simultaneously cast silver arrows at a Gor and a warhound that they glimpse through a large ruin...

The chieftan back-handed a Gor to let out some of his anger. He should have been happy that two treasures had been found by two Gor, but he wasn't happy of having to repeat his order twice for his men to move into this groaning copse, to still have two not brave enough to enter. He would have to remind himself to make them more scared of him than some noisy trees when they got back to camp. His anger was quickly diverted though, as a troupe of humans were spotted. The others in the group started to itch to run out and spill some blood, but were wary enough of their leader to wait until he gave the order. When the chieftan saw silver streaks flying out from two wizards to stun two of his warband to the group, and tactics or caution was thrown to the wind, and with a bellowing roar the Beastmen stormed towards their enemies.

"Hey, take a look at this," called one greenhorn to his buddy, both lagging behind the rest of the party. "Do you think it would be worth something?"

"It'll be worth your head if you don't hand it over to Niko Jr., that's for sure," replied his buddy. "If he catches you with that in his possession, who knows what he'll turn you into."

The conversation came to an abrupt end however when two warhounds charged the second greenhorn, knocking him to the ground. Seeing his buddy in peril, the first greenhorn charges one of the warhounds, which distracted it long enough for his buddy to get back on his feet. Praying to his god, the first young man tried to slash the warhound with his dagger, but despite both warhounds focusing on his buddy, what little experience he had wasn't enough to wound the quick warhounds. He sadly watched as his buddy was stunned and taken out of action. All alone, he turned tail and ran, dropping the artefact in the process.

"Charge!" yelled Niko Jr. when the area suddenly swarmed with the heretical Beastmen. He stopped in his tracks when he felt a spell being cast at him, and he looked around to notice Rudolf muttering the final incantations of his spell and eyeing Nico Jr. with a red gleam in his eye. "Stop him!" he yelled to a nearby guard, "he's been enchanted." Having no defense against Silver Arrows of Arha, Niko Jr. was expecting to be knocked down any second, but fortunately the spell failed.

"Whack!" sounded the gloved hand of the guard against the face of Rudolf as he was backhanded. "Wake up you durned fool!" growled the guard. Rudolf responded by attempting to knife the guard, but the latter's superior fighting skills kept him safe. Another slap and another sidestep to avoid a clumsy swing, and the red glow faded from Rudolf's eyes. "Urrrgh," was all that Rudolf managed to say, as he put a hand to his head and tried to maintain his balance.

Meanwhile, the battle had begun. The Order charged in with righteous bravey, but their inferior strength and fighting skills did little damage against the tough Beastmen. One grunt had a lucky hit against a Bestigor who didn't think it necessary to use a shield against such an unworthy opponent. He paid for that mistake with his life. Another grunt was unlucky to injure the Chieftan, who was lucky enough to get his shield in the way to take the brunt of the force. Snarling, the chieftan responded by taking the unfortunate grunt OOA. One of the guards tried his luck against the Shaman, who promptly stunned and beheaded him. The other men of The Order were likewise dropping like flies. Two grunts and two untrained were taken out by a Bestigor and two Gors, and with that, Niko Jr. had seen enough. "Retreat!" was the call, and soon all were running in defeat, lucky to have only lost one man. To Niko Jr. though this was a victory - a fiend of chaos had been killed and he was still living. He was thinking of how he would celebrate when he had to suddenly dive off the path to avoid being trampled by a runaway horse. "Unholy intestines!" came the expletive.

The Chieftan smiled a wicked smile. Today had been a good day, and there was still plenty of time to get drunk. All four of his Gors had each found a valuable artefact and three more had been found after the battle, which in itself was a marvelous victory. He did not think twice about the loss of a Bestigor. They were easily replaceable after all, and with his new-found reputation, they would be lining up to join his warband. He smiled again, when he felt a welcome malevolent aura come over him - Shornaal was pleased.

The Order found 3 treasures, a runaway horse, rain coat, net, 2 garlic cloves & D6 gc.

The Beastmen found 7 treasures and failed Eye of the Dark Gods by only 1.

The outcome of the battle is that The Order is now in first place at the end of round one due to the bonus Campaign Points from outright killing a Scion of Chaos hero.

It has been a while since we last wrote some battle reports. However, MD and I have written two battle reports for round 8 of the campaign.

A bit of background... in round 7 we had a 4-player game (2v2) of Wyrstone Hunt set in the Northern Wastes. Belandysh appeared and the Order (Celestial Protectorate) fought him and eventually took down his chaos steed, Tol'Agath, and seized the Broadsword of Damnation. We figure that Tchar was watching because three of the warriors received mutations (two from the Order (Skull Face and Cloven Hoofs) and one from the Lone Squad (Brightly Patterned Skin) and these two warbands were the ones that were allied in the battle and fought against Belandysh). We are using the rules in the Corrupted Characters article from the MiM suppliment and thankfully all three mutants were accepted by their warbands.

Round 8 from which these battles reports come is the first round after these events. These battle reports continue the story of those two warbands which are obviously still suffering from the contempt of Tchar.

Quote :

"The Enemy of my Enemy is still my Enemy"

B'trark Gorehorns / Beastmen Raiders with Mark of Onogal / Scion of Chaos & Black Dwarfs / Scourge of the Realm verses the Order / Sorcerous Society / Celestial Protectorate

The Enemy of my Enemy

BECAME

B'trark Gorehorns / Beastmen Raiders with Mark of Onogal / Scion of Chaos versus the Order / Sorcerous Society / Celestial Protectorate

Wyrdstone Hunt

The Dwarfs were late. Bragor had expected as much from those 'slow, hairy tree-stumps' as he liked to think of them. Their pact against their mutual enemy was never likely to last long, and though the absence of the Dwarfs cost the Beastmen an unfair advantage, Bragor was still not afraid of this bunch of magic-slinging punies that he could spy across the plains before him. His fingers adjusted their grip on his mace as he anticipated the blood that was about to be spilled, and he snickered to himself when he realised he wouldn't have to share the kill.

"Darnnit, drats and kaphooey!" spouted Niko Jr. as he sized up the approaching horde of Beastmen (for any number of Beastmen seemed too many for his liking, though the actual number was 13). "How the heck did they find us?"
"They must have found our tracks as we passed through the mountains," deduced Kev, the Kislev ranger. "Just be thankful that they didn't bring extra friends."
"Pull your courage out of your bags, men, and stand strong. If we take enough of them down before they reach us, we can win the day," Niko Jr. announced, as much to bolster his own courage as that of the men's. He then turned to watch as the horde charged across the steppes, as Dravin, Julius' raven familiar, took wing to slow down the dreaded foe.

Bragor was eager for blood, but that didn't cloud his eyesight enough so that he didn't notice some of the old relics scattered across the plains. Ordering his men to keep an eye out for treasure, Bragor and his band stampeded across the plains, hooves thundering. A lone raven flew out towards them, but having had experiences with familiars in the past, Bragor was wary enough to send the dogs out first. As predicted, a spell soon erupted from the raven's mouth in the form of magic missiles, taking out two of the three warhounds of chaos. Albrath the Centigor was enraged at the loss of his half-scaly companions (with whom he shared his fleas, his bed, and even some of his ale). Luckily, an immediate outlet for his anger appeared in the form of three giant wolf-riding hobgoblin scouts who popped up out of a hidden depression. He killed one, then another in frenzy, and stunned the third. Bragor was not one to be left out of the action however, and quickly depacitated the one left sprawled on the ground.

"Work, darnnit!" spat Sigmund, as his Sword of Rezabel spell failed once again. Niko Jr. would have turned to look, but it was such an effort to move while the Flesh of Clay spell was in force. "Uurgh!" came a groan from behind, and this time Niko Jr. did turn to see Julius lying face down, his attempt at casting a second spell quickly having been too much for him. "God help us!" Niko Jr. breathed, though he wasn't quite sure which god he was praying to. Surprisingly, his prayer was answered in the form of three hobgoblins, who managed to distract the Beastmen for long enough for Julius to get back to his feet and for Sigmund to succeed in casting his Sword of Rezabel. Niko Jr. knew the reprieve would not last for long however and soon enough, on they came.

The hobgoblin distraction aside, the beastmen came on in full force - but not without casualties. The Order was capable of casting 2 Silver Arrows of Arha and 2 Magic Missiles spells, and shooting three crossbows and three bows in each round of shooting. By the time melee combat was started, all three warhounds were dead, as was one of the Gor henchmen. Even the previously invincible Albrath was knocked down at one stage. Then it was the Beastmen's turn. The henchmen Gors and Ungor attacked and took out Spot the canine familiar, Dravin, and killed one of the untrained henchmen. Once they had killed their opponents though, they became vulnerable to the missile power of The Order, and two more Gor were taken out, and Nyala was stunned. A small 'poof!' went off at one stage, and Julius was left frazzled for a while as one of his spells miscast. He was soon back in the action casting his viscious Magic Missiles spell however.

The wave of heroes came next - Bragor took out the Molly the Minstrel (Bard), Markhor killed the remaining untrained, and Xebi took out Sigmund. Xebi and a frenzied Albrath took on Niko Jr. next, though Albrath ended up disappointed that he didn't even get to trample the clay-skinned sorceror, as Xebi took him out first hit. As Bragor finished off the pathetic bard he faced off against his next opponent, Hercule. His mind was sent spinning with what he saw however, when he noticed what was strapped to Hercule's back - the Chaos sword of Damnation! His sword - or soon to be, so thought Bragor. His by right. In he charged, swinging wildly, but the ever-calm Hercule didn't have to do much to avoid those clumsy attacks, and took Bragor out with well-placed strike - one that Bragor didn't even consider to step aside for.

With both leaders out of action, the battle hung in the balance, but as the fighting became ever more melee, The Order knew they were outmatched, and made a hasty retreat - and to the misfortune of Sigmund, leaving him behind to be sacrificed by the Beastmen.

As he chomped into a breast of Sigmund that night around the campfire, Bragor stared off into the stars. Tonight was a joint celebration for the victory and for the promotion of Kudu to a hero, but as the others celebrated Bragor sat in contemplation, tormented by the memory of his missed opportunity. But one day, soon, he told himself, that sword would be his.


The Chaos Dwarfs missed their game.

The Order found 5 treasures and received 2 campaign points.

The B'trark Gorehorns found 7 treasures and also received 2 campaign points.

Quote :

"New Kids on the Block"

The Lone Squad / Gunnery School of Nuln / Lure of Fortune verses the Hunters / Reiklander Mercenaries / Celestial Protectorate

Traces to Emprise

"Tell me where I can find I can find the caravan route!" Senior Gunnery School Officer Benedict von Neale yelled as he shoved the old Cathayan villager up against the wall. His caravan had somehow wandered off the 'well traveled' route and was seriously lost. Benedict was desperate to get back on route and to the 'safety' of the silk road. The old man just shook his head and there was sadness more than fear in his eyes. The temporary burst of anger quickly fled and Benedict slowly put the man down.

"What am I becoming," he thought sadly. His squad and caravan were desperate but at that moment he realised that no amount of desperation justified torture. They would ask for help but he would not resort to violence. He fled the small house and the piercing gaze of the villagers. The sound of gunshots welcomed him as he returned into the raging blizzard. "What now?" he groaned.


Captain Ivan of the Hunters shook his head and rolled to his hands and knees and then slowly to his feet. He had been knocked senseless by a gunshot that had come unexpectedly out of the swirling snow. The damn blizzard had prevented his squad of Reiklander mecenaries from realising that there was a hostile force in the village. They had simply come to the small village to gather whatever information they could get to track down a band of marauders that had been raiding some caravans over the last few weeks. He had not expected it to turn into a battle.

"Climb up on the roofs and shoot back!" Ivan yelled when he noted that the opening volly of gunfire had killed one of his marksmen. Some of his men shot back to give cover to the marksmen trying to climb. The shooting battle was vicious and another of his warriors quickly succumbed to the gunfire. Under the cover of gunfire, two enemy warriors charged out of the swirling snow into Ivan's two champions. Mace was dispatched in a heartbeat by a fearsome warrior with brightly coloured tattoos. Dace also went down after his leg was smashed by the mace of the other enemy warrior.

The walls of the cottages were slick with ice from the blizzard and one of his marksmen gave up trying to climb. As the marksman approached Ivan the ground gave way and he disappeared from sight. It was probably a well and Ivan hoped that it was an old well and only shallow. Meanwhile the other marksmen must have finally manged to get up on the roof as crossbow bolts finally started to rain down from the roof of the cottage behind him. The brightly coloured man was quickly taken out of action by a well placed shot. BOOM! An explosion suddenly ripped through part of the roof and took out two marksmen. "May the gods help us" he silently prayed.


Senior Gunnery Officer Benedict von Neale clapped his marksman on the back as two of the enemy marksmen fell from the roof. The pigeon bomb had been timed perfectly. The battle was fierce and another enemy warrior was shot down by Deadeye Danny who was a marksman second only to Benson the squad's instructor. As he watched the battle his best duellist, Danno, was taken by surprise by a marksman who had dived off the roof of the cottage and Benedict knew that Danno was out of action. Meanwhile the captain of the enemy squad took Benedict's other duellist out of action before charging down Deadeye Danny who was trying to reload his handgun. Benedict decided it was time to pull back. He was getting no information from the villagers and this battle was starting to turn for the worst.


Captain Ivan looked around at the men in his squad and then over at Senior Gunnery Officer Benedict von Neale. The battle was several days ago now and the village was long behind them. One of his men was dead and Dace would be out of action for quite some time with his smashed leg. However, they had been given some useful information from the villagers and also had captured one of the enemy warriors. The enemy squad had just handed over 50 gold crowns for the return of their warrior. He couldn't call the expedition a worthwhile endevour but at lesat his marksman would not have died totally in vain. The two squads were aligned opposite each other and the tension was still high. "You can keep the weapons and items as mentioned before, we are not total enemies after all..." Ivan said to Benedict as his Mace came forward and dropped a sack of equipment beside him. "Best we part company now though."


Senior Student Reuben trudged along in chains that were bound together with several other men who he did not know. He had been separated from his squad after the battle. He blamed the blizzard. When the villagers had seen him they grabbed pitchforks and old rusty swords and chased him out of the village. He swore again under his breath at the mutation that had stricken him with brightly coloured skin. Things had got worse though as several days later he had been run down by a band of marauders. They laughed at him when they saw his mutation and took him before their seer who also laughed as he spoke in some cursed tongue and placed 'the mark' on his forehead. He stopped thinking about the past and looked ahead to see what was to come. They had just entered a camp and were approaching a large tent.

He was the first to be released and as he was led into the tent he realised that inside there was a barbarian ring. The marauders where yelling and howling as the biggest man he had ever seen climbed into the ring. He had a sword and a shield and Reuben could see the heavy armour worn by the man under his furs. "So I am going to die at the hands of a warrior of chaos..." Reuben thought grimly. His captors forced him to climb into the ring and then surprisingly threw down his two maces and his lucky charm at his feet. He quickly snatched them up not once taking his eyes of his opponent.

As soon as he had a firm grip on his maces, Reuben dashed forward. He new that he had surprised the warrior when he saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. The warrior of chaos parried Reuben's blows and followed up with a counter attack that hit Reuben. It was only a shallow cut though and Reuben shrugged it off. The warrior of chaos lunged forward again and the crowd roared. Reuben scrambled back quickly and almost lost his footing. In desperation he struck out again with his maces. The warrior once again easily parried Reuben's blows with his sword. They faced each other in the middle of the ring as they slowly circled and then the warrior of chaos charged forward again. Reuben was ready this time though and he deftly sidestepped the sweep of the sword from the warrior of chaos. He then brought his mace around and slammed it into the back of the head of his enemy. The warrior of chaos dropped to his knees and Reuben landed another solid hit in his face. It was done. He had won! The marauders were roaring their approval. Suddenly Reuben felt a slight and familiar tingle over his body. The red blood that was slowly seeping from his arm turned black and started to sizzle as it touched the sleave of his shirt. "Oh great, another mutation" he thought in dismay.


Senior Gunnery Officer Benedict von Neale sighed. His squad had found Reuben earlier that morning. It had been thirteen moons since they had lost him. Some of his squad had quickly welcomed Reuben back but others were keeping their distance. He agreed with them that the mark on Reuben's forehead was offputting but he still wanted to trust Reuben, believe his story and welcome him back. They needed all the men they could get. Benedict had tried to talk to his men but many were unconvinced. First the brightly coloured skin, now a mark and black blood. They had convincing arguments also. "What if our gods turn their back on us for harbouring a mutant?" "What if Reuben wasn't 'released' but has joined the marauders and is planning to lead them to us and our caravan?" Danny was the loudest. The duelist spoke morbid tales of how the dark gods would take interest in their squad and send wave after wave of their minions against them. It was all getting too much and his will was wavering.

"Enough!" Benedict said in a loud and firm voice. "Those who believe that our Reuben can come back to fight beside us come to me." Danny was the first to step forward and then he spat at the feet of Reuben and walked away. One by one the others followed him. In the end it was only Reuben and Benedict standing there. Benedict looked at Reuben and saw the fear in his eyes. He pointed down the road. "Go. You cannot come back to join this squad. Take your weapons and equipment but go." Reuben stood for a moment in shock and then spat at Benedicts feet before turning and walking away. Benedict just stood there and watched him leave.


This was the first battle for the Hunters who won and ended the game with 6 information points meaning that the warband gets to choose one of their next scenarios. The Hunters found 3 treasures and received 1 campaign point.

The Lone Squad ended with only 1 information point. The Lone Squad also found 3 treasures and received 2 campaign points (bonus campaign point was received by Reuben winning "Get in the Pit" against the Warrior of Chaos). Reuben was stripped of his position in the squad and left behind as an abomination.

My poor Gunnery School of Nuln warband. Losing to a new, 'green' warband.

Woot! Battle reports! Thanks for taking the time to put these together. Was the Reiklander crazy? From the report you were cutting them up pretty good. As far as embarrassment, I find it passes. (My orcs get killed by new warbands all the time...)

He just played very well. I accidentally chose a scenario that prevented voluntary routs so he was forced to play on and eventually whittled my warband down to routing also. That was the first of several mistakes that I made that battle (the big one was assuming that my men would just walk all over his warriors). The scenario ended without a rout though when my men searched the last building. I searched twice as many buildings as the Reiklanders and yet they finished with more information points from searching buildings and subsequently won the battle.

Hi all,
Here is a battle report from round 9 of our campaign.
I was playing Reikland Mercenaries (hunters) versing Beastmen (B'trark Gorehorns) who after this this battle becam the top-ranked team in our campaign. Keep in mind this is my second match ever playing Mordhiem and my first battle report, so let us know what you think!

I chose the Manhunt scenario hoping that the Dragon Ogres that ended up on the field may help out, maybe take out an enemy or two.... who knows? I did not research their stats before the battle however, so it was a bit of a shock when I saw those!
M WS BS S T W I A Ld
7 4 2 5 4 4 2 3 8

Anyway, heres how it all played out...

Quote :

Battle report Round 9
B'trark Gorehorns / Beastmen Raiders with Mark of Onogal / Scion of Chaos
VS
Hunters / Reiklander Mercenaries / Celestial Protectorate

Mountains of Mourning
Weather: Hail for 3 turns
Perilous Phenomena: Tempest, Thunder and lightning, Gale
Tall stories of monstrous beasts roaming the lands had become the talk in the taverns and meeting places of the city. Merchants plying the western routes had claimed to have seen hulking outlines against the fading sun. Still others claimed to be survivors of attacks by these beasts. Usually the sightings were when light was dim, or when the weather was bad and identification was difficult, but the location was undisputed: a small mountain pass roughly five days journey west of the city.
***
Captain Ivan cursed the storm as he ushered his men forward. The noise made communication difficult, forcing them to use hand signals. He and his men had traveled five days in perfect weather, only to be beset by hail as they began to close in on their quarry. A hand-picked group, Ivan had led them in search of this beast of the tales, hoping to clear the route for future trade and travel. Ivan signaled his men to stop, as a dark mass loomed ahead – two mountain peaks separated by a wide pass. The men stood for a while surveying the scene searching for signs of their quarry, but were soon cursing the weather again as thunder boomed and echoed through the pass, and wind picked up in flurries and gusts, soon turning into a full-blown gale – perfect for sending their bolts and arrows off-course.
***
Bragor calmly surveyed the scene in front of him. He had led his raiding party out of the north hoping for richer pickings among the caravan trails of the Mountains of Mourne.
Following the caravan trails had so far proved fruitful. Morale was high after the recent victory over the magic-wielding Order, and his followers were eager to again douse their weapons in blood. A battle was soon in coming as a hulking shadow loomed on the trail ahead. Bragor spoke sharply to some of the more eager Gors as they began moving forward to meet the newcomer. With sullen looks they moved back and took up positions, awaiting the chance to send another creature into the waiting arms of Onogal.
Bragor laughed as the melee began. Sitatunga the fool had moved in front of his comrades, obviously eager to prove himself. Well he had soon learnt his lesson, being beaten to the ground and trampled by the beast. He ordered his followers forward into battle, and with a rumbling roar charged the monster himself. Markhor the shaman, forgoing use of his spells charged alongside, slicing open the creature’s sides with a flurry of well-aimed blows.
The massed charge and sharp steel quickly discouraged the creature, a strange mix of scales and ugly. Once, twice, three times they attacked, and each time the beast was driven back until it fled blindly into the swirling currents of a fast-flowing river.. Bragor watched amused as the hulking creature struggled to keep its footing, eventually being swept downstream, its bellows matched by the rough laugh of the gorehorns. Albrath the centigor gave a stamp, displeased at being unable to bury his blade into such a worthy foe. He hadn't managed to spill any blood since downing some measly hobgoblins, and his nostrils flared as he recalled his recent encounter with The Order where he was knocked to the ground by those annoying spells and crossbows – only blood was going to fix that dent in his pride.
Bragor’s laugh died in his throat as he turned to the centigor and saw him suddenly stagger and fall, a crossbow bolt quivering from his body. A hero amongst his followers and veteran of many battles, Albrath was fearsome as a foe and an inspirational figure leading a charge into battle. The sight of their hero felled by a cowardly bolt turned the gorehorns' amusement to anger in a flash, and they moved as one into the forest south of the pass, eager to take their revenge.
***
Ivan looked up sharply as a bellowing roar echoed through the pass ahead of them. Swiftly moving forward and taking cover at the entrance to the pass he spotted a massed melee taking place. He identified a Dragon Ogre, obviously the monster of the tales, engaged with what appeared to be a party of beastmen. Ivan had heard stories of these mutants – strange, human-like abominations twisted by the dark gods. Taking advantage of the distracted foes he ordered his crossbowmen to fire into the melee. Ivan smiled as he heard the bolts whistle overhead and the resultant cry as a bolt struck true.
Seeing the twisted horse go down Ivan looked around for the shooter and made his approval known. The marksman, Alan hurried over and tried to make himself heard over the gale that was now blowing. “They’ve headed round the mountain sir, must be tryin’ to come at us from the forest to the south”. Ivan nodded and quietly directed his marksmen, trying to set up a killing zone for when the beastmen left the cover of the forest.
A sudden clatter of rocks and a yell brought Ivan’s attention. Seeing one of his marksmen, Much laying face-down below a small ridge his first impulse was to berate the clumsy fool, thinking he had tripped and fallen. On seeing the man lying still he motioned Scarlet, another marksman to check on him. Scarlet moved over to the still figure, reached down and slapped the fallen man. Looking across at his leader he slowly shook his head. Cursing the loss of a man before the fight had even started Ivan moved off to check the defensive line.
Looking around to see all was set, Ivan noticed a hulking figure moving toward them through the mountain pass. Dragon Ogre! He yelled to Scarlet to move out of the way and called his remaining marksmen into line before reaching for his bow. Whether it was another Dragon Ogre, or the same one they had seen earlier, Ivan could not tell as he called for a volley. Multiple volleys of crossbow bolts and arrows struck the creature, doing nothing but angering it as it gave a bellow and charged at Scarlet, who was caught in the middle of the pass. Showing no sign of fear Scarlet raised his crossbow and loosed a bolt. Now truly enraged, the creature roared a challenge as it bore down on the puny human, its massive axe tearing through Scarlet’s hurried defense and leaving him crumpled on the side of the pass. With shields up, the Youngbloods set themselves to meet the beast, but the still charging Ogre sent them both sprawling back into the rubble beside the trail. Desperately hoping to save his young troops, Ivan led a charge toward the beast and with Mace at his side slashed the creature in its unprotected flank. Howling in pain, the beast broke off the combat and moved behind a ridge. Panting, Ivan let the beast go, they needed to regroup before the beastmen returned.
***
Lightning flashed overhead and the howling winds continued as the Gorehorns moved quickly through thick forest. After crossing the river Bragor decided to split the party, leaving Xebi to lead a group of Gors while he moved ahead with Markhor, Sitatunga and a single Gor to pressure the humans. While crossing a small clearing however Xebi was spotted by a filthy human, and promptly received a bolt through his leg, causing him to stumble and fall. Eager for battle the Gors moved on ahead, leaving him to stumble along as best he could.
Hearing the humans’ battle with the Dragon Ogre, Bragor moved his small group behind a ridge south of the humans’ position, waiting for his remaining forces to gather for a combined strike. Bragor watched as a pair of Gors, Xyro and Dalen, blundered out of the forest nearby, charging straight for a pair of humans carrying shields. A cry went up from the humans, and arrows whistled towards the them, all seeming to fly wide of the running Gors. Charging headlong into the fray, Xyro and Dalen tried in vain to get past the shields of the humans, but each stroke was blocked by the defenders. The archers charged to the assistance of the shield-bearers and Xyro and Dalen were quickly surrounded and cut down.
Regrouping, the archers moved away from the shield-bearers, and on catching sight of Bragor’s small party, loosed another ineffectual volley in their direction. Bragor sneered at their feeble weapons and ordered Sitatunga to engage them. “Your chance for glory son” he said to the Ungor, his contempt barley concealed. Sitatunga immediately charged the nearest archer, ignoring the drawn sword and plunging his goat-like head into the human’s stomach, knocking him to the ground. At that moment the remaining Gors, sneaking up behind another ridge, spied the shield-bearers partially concealed on the other side of the outcropping. Wasting no time they charged at the presented shields, backing the humans against the rock face. Bragor smiled, they had the humans right where he wanted them.
***
Ivan brought the bowstring to his ear and released another arrow at the hulking Bestigor behind the ridge (Markhor). He saw his arrow glace off the beast’s armor as it charged toward Mace, striking him down as he lay helpless from the runt’s charge. Looking around, he saw more beastmen moving toward them and despaired as the battle was lost. He called his men to retreat, the youngbloods breaking out from the beastmen surrounding them, killing a heavily armored Gor (Kudu) as they forced their way through. The beastmen did not seem set on following, their bloodlust slaked for the moment. Ivan watched his men move away through the forest, despondent at the loss of men and vowing to return. He took a last look at the battlefield, then to the sky. At least the weather had cleared…
***
Albrath woke with a sharp pain on his forehead. Blinking quickly to clear his bleary eyes he came to his feet and found himself in a cage. He tried to push against the door, his hooves biting deep into the soggy soil as he grunted with effort, but the door would not budge. Angered he cast about for a means of escape when he noticed a human stirring in the next cell. This measly piece of flesh and bone had better not have been the marksman who took him down, he thought to himself, his anger increasing at yet another embarrassment. Stewing in thoughts of revenge, Albrath noted a gathering forming in a circle nearby, with a heavy-set warrior dressed in ornate armor at its centre. Soon a guard came over to the cells, shaking the human fully awake before dragging him to the edge of the circle. Albrath watched with interest as they gave the human a mace and dagger, obviously the weapons he had been captured with. The buzz of the crowd quickly became a rowdy cacophony of shouts, jeers, and chants, as bets were quickly placed, ale was quickly consumed, people jostled each other for a better view and rotten food was thrown at the quivering human. The human, introduced to the crowd as Scarlet was then roughly pushed in to the circle, and was shown cold steel as he turned around to look for a way out.
Reluctantly, Scarlet moved to attack the still immobile warrior in his deep red chaos armour. His feeble strike was contemptuously brushed aside and the warrior’s heavy blade swept down on him, felling him where he stood. Kicking the still form the warrior returned to the centre of the ring, eager for his next opponent.

The guard now moved toward Albrath’s cage, and Albrath burst forth as soon as the door was opened. Sweeping up his weapons he charged the warrior of chaos, his anger and frustration released in the thrill of battle – this is what he was born for. Each strike glanced off the warrior’s heavy armor, each killing blow blocked by a well-timed parry. Albrath’s fury began to fade as the fight dragged on, the warriors circling each other, waiting for the other to make a mistake. The crowd, becoming caught up in the furious display, cheered when a blow was struck, baying for blood to be spilled. They roared as a repeated series of blows from Albrath's sword bit deep into the warrior’s heavy armor, bringing him down. Nostrils flaring, crowd braying, blood staining the sand, Albrath let out a roar of victory, bathing in the glory and leaving his defeats far behind him. Lifting his sword in victory, Albrath felt his blood begin to burn, as blessings of Onogal rained down on him in his glory. His muscular form then began to expand, as if all the ale he had consumed in the last week (and that was a lot) had been retained in his not flabby folds, and his tough skin became thicker and rougher. The guards were approaching warily, with intent to send the new champion back to his cage, but Albrath had tasted blood, had tasted glory, had tasted the blessings of his god and he was now near indestructible. The crowd's cheers soon became screams, as Albrath turned on anyone within reach. He was not as fast as he once was, but any wounds against him seemed to just bounce off his rubbery folds of flab. As the crowd began to thin, the villagers began to prepare an organised defense. Albrath, though he welcomed the challenge, felt the call of his god to return to Bragor and his brothers in blood.
Scarlet woke up to a sharp pecking at his shoulder, the sound of buzzing flies and the caws of crows, and the stench of loosened bowels. He quickly shooed away the hungry crow that was pecking at one of his wounds, but winced and groaned as he came close to blacking out again. Gingerly, he sat up and removed the body that was half-sprawled across him. Realising he had been stripped of his possessions except his bloody clothes, Scarlet crawled out of the ditch of bodies, knowing that he now faced the dangers of infection, starvation, and being alone and unarmed in a hostile environment. He had hope, however, and in the end, hope led him home.

The B'trark Gorehorns victory allowed them to find 4 treasures and received 3 campaign points.
The Hunters received 5 Treasures and received 1 campaign point

I was quite happy with the outcome of this battle, after losing 1 marksman to falling, 1 to the dragon ogre and 1 to the Beasmen I routed straight away. But I still managed to take out 2 Henchemn and 2 heros, making the beastmen take 2 route tests before routing myself. Anyway hope you enjoyed the report!

Oh I must give credit to my opponent for reviewing the report and adding in some of his perspective. Cheers!

Welcome and thanks to both of you for the well written report. Looking forward to more.

Cheers!

Thanks for putting that up, da_hunter!

Your warriors put up a remarkably good fight against that herd of beastmen. Too bad the cenitgor, Albrath, wasn't killed or injured and instead was thrown in the ring and won (gaining Blackblood from the victory and also Bloated Foulness from an advancement roll). I'm not looking forward to facing the B'trark Gorehorns anytime soon.