Estalian Sun

OH-SO-COOL photos & report...not necessarily in that order!

Again a very nice report.

I didn't saw the monster though. Was it there in any of the puctures?

Thanks again.
The Monster was represented by playtable's only unpainted figure, Karl Franz's grifffon. I think the photographer deliberatly did not photograph it for that reason.

The Caves are Calling : The Arm of the Protectorate goes rat hunting
The latest episode of the adventures of Capt .d"Hevler (Comte D'Yquem ) and his crew of the Allume in their continuing quest to bring enlightenment and culture to Esatalia.

The Arm received their latest assignment with a bit of trebidation -they were to go into the caverns near Bilbali to investigate rumors of a dragon egg , also intelligence gathered by the inquisition suggested that there had been sightings of odd creatures that seemed like hairy dwarves with tails . Petite Colombe brightened the mood by saying "that at least it doesn't rain underground -so the powder will work !!"
upon entering the Cavern system Sir Edradour loudly announced that :" as the Inquisition had ordered us on this ,I am in charge " and then strode off in one direction after telling Bonne Chat ,Tante , Petite Mal and the 2 new Remasan swabbies to follow him . They did but Bonne chat had a quick word with D'Hevler before hand .
The tunnels forced the remaining members to split up again with the largets group being led by D'hevler (with MArrante in the lead). As they went deeper and deeper into the caves it was evedient something was odd- they was sufficeient light to see further thaan a pistol can fire ( 15" sighting) and there was a palpable smell of something sewerlike in the air and a number of men mentioned that they felt something whispering to them

Tthe 3 groups slowly went forward when suddenly some of them started acting oddly -screaming out " Smell The Gold ", "It's mine ,all Mine " I'll kill anyone in my way "and other things and then running helter skelter in all directions sometimes even into the walls and trying to claw their way thru .As they did this the others gave them a wide berth and kept away from them ,but sometimes the ensorcelled crew attacked their fellows . In the group with Siur Edradour one of teh swabbie women cried out "I see it ,it's mine " and ran forward towards who knows what (later it turned out to be a small box of coins ) Tante also charged straight at Sir edradour and swing a cutlass at him -missing badly .Sir Edradour ,distractedly fended him off . Seeing her oppurtunity Bonne Chat smiled wickedly and stepped behind Sir Edradour and in a flurry of blows wounded him 4 times and he fell to the ground spouting Niagaras of Blood.

The main group had almost fully advanced into a central cavern when from the other side they could hear loud screams of some things that made almost Hhuman noises but not quite. Marrante led the crew into the cavern cautiously ,but Hirondelle pushed past him and ran to what looked like a large Egg in the centre of the cavern . No sooner than he had done that the a small furry thing no bigger than a Kislevian peasant boy came scurrying across the floor at him and hit him with a dagger -wounding him slightly . Hirondelle popped a healing herb in his mouth and brought his mighty boarding axe up and smote the creature with a blow that would have killed any man he had met . But the creature merely giggled and struck back wouding Hirondelle again . At this Hirondelle called out for Solkan to guide his axe and gave the creature another tremendous blow which laid the thing low - as the creaturee fell a disgusting odor came from it accompanied by a gas of some type which caused all withiin smell to be momentarily blinded . When all had recovered their sight and mental senses all was quiet and except for a pool of smelly blood there was nothing to suggest that a fight had just occurred -not even a body (except for Sir Edradours ). When searching the cavern area Jean Crapaud found a cloak that had some weapons and a scroll in it .
as the search was going on one of the Remasan women swabbies had started to tend to Sir Edrador and before anyone cold stop her she saved his life .(he rolled a 4).

This was the Dragon egg scenario vs the skaven . Bonne Chat was overcome by treasure madness and did kill Sir Edradour -But I like my explanation
The Skaven were undone by the scenario leadership checks
Losses :
Arm of Protectorate
Sir Edradour OOA-(made roll )Lupin OOA (made roll )
Skaven : voluntary rout
Geshrat OOA- he was the crature that charged -recovered
Frayd : OOA - Dead -killed by a skavebn that failed the treasure leadership test (looted body eg : scroll)
Giant rat -OOA and another skaven also OOA by skaven

So no skaven bodies to prove they exist

Quote :

Week 10—Skaven intrigue
“Dem Bones”
Or the Dragon's Egg
Half-truths and rumor reported by Von Kurst.



Mad Mizzel gazed adoringly (if vacantly) at his rock. His rock was found well off a side tunnel, far from the main burrow. Still nearly every day Mizzel would wander off from his devotions to worship privately at his rock. Anyone he encountered along his path was warned off with bared fangs and drawn daggers. Since this was the greeting Mizzel gave anyone he met at anytime, most monks of the Pandenium avoided him at all times.

Mizzel could not remember when or how he had discovered this special rock, but he had. And he could find it no matter where in the maze of the burrow he happened to be when he felt the rock’s summons. The rock was tall and riddled with many holes; Mizzel had crammed his offerings into the holes he could reach. The spire of rock was festooned with bones, scraps of rotting flesh, rags and broken weapons.

“Mizzzzellll!” moaned the rock’s high nasal voice. “Mizzzelll, watch thee the f-foul Geshrat. The monster thy bones covets, yessss. Geshrat will thee kill, Mizzel. Ssssoon, oh soon, the disciples will to the ancient cave of the dragon journey. M-m-mark thee Mizzzzeellll! The cave of the dragon!”

“Kave of the ‘ragon!” mumbled Mizzel.

“Yessss!” said the rock. “In the cave thee shall be Geshrat’s doom! For a great confusion will over the Pandenium fall!”

“’Fushun ‘all!” mumbled Mizzel.

“Ssssilence!” howled the rock. “H-h-hark Mizzell. Geshrat plans to kill thee in the cave. No one will stop him, not even Ffrayyd, thy friend.”

“’Rayd! Likes ‘rayd!”

“Yessss!” hissed the rock. “Frayyyd help thee can not. But the cave Geshrat’s guardians into confusion will throw. The great rat ogre, the human pet, will save him not from thee, M-mizzellll!”

“’Izzel!”

“Not from thee, M-mizzellll!” repeated the voice. “S-s-so I the herald of the Horned Rat say! Strike fast M-mizzellll! In the Cave! K-killlll!”

“’Izzel. Kave. Kill.”

“K-kill Geshrat!” screeched the rock.

“Kill Geshrat!” screeched Mizzel.

“Yessss!” hissed the rock very quietly. “Now give thanks to the Horned One for his favor! Recite the Liber Pestilentium thirteen times!”

Others would be amazed that Mad Mizzel could count to two, let alone thirteen, but for the rock Mizzel would do anything. He fell to reciting as the strange slithering and clicking sounds echoed through the tunnels in accompaniment to his liturgy. Soon the clicking faded away in the distance.

“Mizell!” whispered a voice.

“Rock?” queried a puzzled Mizzel.

“Yes. Errrr, y-yessss!” said the voice with more confidence. “Thy praise cease! Repeat thy task, Mizzell!”

“’Izzel. Kave. Kill. Geshrat!” parroted Mizzel proudly.

“NOOOOO!” thundered the voice. This voice-of-the-rock was deeper, more commanding.

“Rock?” queried an extremely confused Mizzel.

The rock seemed to be having an argument with itself. There were many voices. At one point Mizzel was sure that it growled. Then his rock spoke again:

Mizzzzellll!” moaned the rock. “Mizzzelll, watch thee the traitor Frayd. The beast thy bones covets, yessss. Frayd will thee kill, Mizzel. Ssssoon, oh soon, the disciples will to the ancient cave of the dragon journey. M-m-mark thee Mizzzzeellll! The cave of the dragon!”

“Kave of the ‘ragon!” mumbled Mizzel.

“Yessss!” said the rock. “In the cave thee shall be Frayd’s doom! H-h-hark Mizzell. Frayd plans to kill thee in the cave. No one will stop him, not even Geshrat, thy friend.”

“’Shrat! ‘Shrat fren’?!”

“Yessss!” hissed the rock. “Yet great Geshrat help thee can not. But the cave his guardians into confusion will throw. The imp, the rat familiar, will save him not from thee, M-mizzellll!”

“’Izzel!”

“Not from thee, M-mizzellll!” repeated the voice. “S-s-so I the herald of the Horned Rat say! Strike fast M-mizzellll! In the Cave! K-killlll!”

“’Izzel. Kave. Kill.”

“K-kill Frayd!” screeched the rock.

“Kill ‘Rayd!” screeched Mizzel.

“Yessss!” whispered the voice-of-the-rock. “Now repeat thy thanks to the Horned One for his favor!”

Mizzel returned to his litany with renewed vigor. The cave echoed with his chant and the stealthy slithering and clicking of claws on stone…

</A>Week 10—Skaven intrigue (cont’d)
“Dem Bones”
Further Fabrication of Events by Von Kurst. Photos by playtable

Geshrat arrays his minions. The doomed but oblivious Frayd is between
D’mot the rat ogre and Mad Mizzel. No way he could survive that…
</A></A>

Far from the Skaven’s eyes the pirates scatter about the caverns. The
dragon’s egg is the blue bead.
</A></A>

The Pandenium’s line dissolves into pandemonium! Driven mad by the
malevolent spirit of the long dead dragon the weak willed skaven fall
upon each other or wander aimlessly in search of phantom treasure.
Frayd is no more…
</A></A>

The hired wizard, Simonson, flies to claim a treasure. Geshrat enters
the main cavern.
</A></A>

Simonson flies down a tunnel. Almost too late he sees the hulking
shadow of D’mot closing in.
</A>

Simonson escaped down a narrow side tunnel. The crazed D’mot roared
in frustration behind him.

A horde of pirates surround the dragon’s egg. Geshrat challenges them alone!
</A></A>

Once Geshrat falls, the surviving skaven flee!

OH BABY! MORE PRETTY PHOTOS!
It doesn't take much to make Old Fools happy...especially early in the day.

Yeah very nice pictures.

Do you have some closeup pictures from the minis?

SerialMoM@The camera has stayed home for the last couple of weeks while photos of week 10 got posted. You might have to ask playtable again...
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Week 11--Scurvy Dogs!

The Frenzied Mob


The Arm of the Protectorate clashed with the Tilean Trulls in a picturesque Estalian village. The Trulls are rumored to have been defeated. No further details have emerged.
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Wolf Hunt


The Arm of the Protectorate interrupt the Sisters of Sigmar's Vigilance as they hunt wolves on a rainy day in the Mirimar Hills. The Sisters manage to kill 5 wolves despite the interference of the pirates. However, several nuns and their loyal retainer are killed by the heartless rogues. The nuns flee with their wolf pelts.

Post Battle
Sisters of Sigmar's Vigilance:

Quote :

Novice Brenda got lass has talent. And my oldest and newest henchwomen, Sister Mary and a Novice without a name, died.
(The Sisters long suffering Road Warden was killed as well.)
Even though I got +3 extra experience, I dropped in rating and am now at 290.
I did search and find a 2nd horse. Need more ride skills before I get more horses. Riders seem to die quickly.

No reports from the victorious pirates, although at least one Steel Whip is looted or captured.
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Week 11.5--Curses!

The Frenzied Mob (AGAIN)
A Tale of Dark Sorcery and Witchcraft most Foul



Geshrat sniffed the muggy night air. He could smell man-things nearby, smoke and the stink of their lairs. Morslieb shown above him, casting odd shadows. The female human must be nearby. She had promised him a sacrifice and power over his enemies. Geshrat bared his fangs. He HAD power over his enemies! Suddenly D'mot growled.

"What isss it my pet?" rasped Geshrat. He turned slightly to peer at his bodyguard. As he did so he mistepped and fell on his face.

"Foes!" "Asssasssins!" "Kill-kill!" Startled skaven ran roaring toward the human village. Amazingly an ambush did materialize. Crazed humans rushed from the hovels and fell upon the disorganized skaven. D'mot howled as a torch burned his fur.

Geshrat scrambled to his feet expecting an assassin's dagger at any moment. He noted grimly that none of his bodyguards was nearby. If they lived Geshrat vowed he would boil their bones!

Geshrat skuttled toward the melee. More torches glowed from the other side of the village. A horse whinnied in fear. Arrows hissed toward the skaven battling the villagers. Geshrat knew he was betrayed! The human female had led him into a trap! A groaning man-thing lay nearby. Geshrat cut at it with his sword. His sword hit a rock in the dark. The man leapt to his feet and futily struck at Ghesrat with a stick. Ghesrat could hear more man-things marching in the night. He must end this. Geshrat slashed the cretin he fought, but his blows seemed to lack strength! It wasn't fair!

Panting with anger and desperation Geshrat kicked the man in the tender bits,THAT got his attention! His enemy fell with a scream. Geshrat kicked at him again and missed. An arrow hissed by. Geshrat glared at a mob of torchlit archers. They were drawing new arrows. Ghesrat looked wildly around for cover or someone to stand between him and the archers. He jumped back when he came snout to snout with the Mad Mizzel! Geshrat pointed at the whimpering man on the ground.

"Kill-kill it!" he ordered. Turning his back Geshrat hustled toward the beckoning shadows of some nearby trees. From the cover of the woods he could survey the field as a true commander should.

The village square was a nightmare of struggling men, horses and skaven. There were dozens of them! Where had they come from? How could his inept scouts have missed this many humans? Sorcery! Betrayal! Geshrat considered stabbing the novice nearest him in the back and fleeing. Then the fool took an arrow and fell. Loyalty was so refreshing. Geshrat prepared his sling and shot a rock at the archer. The man was punched off his feet! Most satisfying! Geshrat took a step forward.

Boom! Geshrat was stung by dozens of tiny missiles. Ghesrat stared hard at the astonished fool who had just shot him. He recognized that human! Geshrat quickly took stock. A man and horse were down, but more men surged over the bodies. Dozens! Perhaps hundreds! Where were his brave wariors? Three knives suddenly sunk into the chest of the novice on his left. Geshrat made a decision, he would deal with the human witch some other night.

"FLEE YOU FOOLS!"

Post Battle
Despite heavy casualties, the Pandemium suffered only minor losses--giant rats, novices--beings of no account.

The Arabyans lost Enrico the Fox, burned by warpfire, Doaud, killed by a sling stone, and Don Esteban who was disarmed by a wild swing, then overthrown and hacked to pieces along with his brave warhorse. Rashid loses an eye to a skaven spear.
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Interlude
Rais Al Kuds was bone weary. The tiny village had been mostly destroyed by the battle with the skaven. While his men fought the monsters in the streets the mutant fiends had somehow gotten inside the buildings and killed everyone. The brutal carnage moved even his veteran soul.

"Rais Al Kuds!" called Abu. The veteran corsair was greatly excited. His pet monkey shrieked with agitation as it clung to Abu's arrow bag.

"My Rais, please come and see," beckoned Abu. "It is most strange!"

Abu lead Al Kuds to a hidden path that entered a dark wood near the village. They followed the path for a few moments when suddenly they were in a fantastic clearing. A small house stood in the middle, but what a house! It was made of foods! Cakes, sweet meats and all manner of good things!

Al Kuds had the pack animals brought up. The men dismantled the strange house quickly and packed as much as they could. What they could not take away they ate. When the house was completely gone the Faithful prepared to leave.

"MY HOUSE!" shrieked a woman's voice. "My beautiful house! What have you done! Where will I live!"

The Arabyans faced the dark trees with drawn bows. All of them made signs against the evil eye and clutched amulets as they readied thier weapons. But no attack came and they could not see anyone in the surrounding trees.

"Move out!" ordered the Rais. Now that the house was destroyed he wondered that he had ordered it done, but like the smoldering village they had left, what was done was done.

"Yes leave me brave warriors," called the voice. "Leave me and mine to starve and freeze! I curse you! I curse you! I curse you!"
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The Faithful are Cursed (re-roll all successful hits and wounds) until they can find a way to lift the bane. Oops.

Week 12--Into the Woods
The Forests of Estalia.
The campaign has been fought mainly in the wilderness of Estalia with early forays into the settled lands to steal horses. The Pandemium was fond of fighting the war underground whenever possible, but they have recently suffered defeats by well equipped human expeditions. Thus the once powerful Clan Pestilense warband was forced out of the Underways to a Skaven stronghold deep in the Sombra Woods. From there they hoped to build their power anew.

The Tainted Copse I
A Skirmish between the Sisters and the Trulls


The woman known as Mother surveyed the surrounding wood. The place was evil she could feel it in her bones. The road led into a natural cave of green foliage and moss covered trunks. So far there had been warding shrines every mile or so, but the vibrant evil of the wood may have overwhelmed the wards.

"Remember Sisters," she called. "We must keep to the road."

She had no sooner spoken than her outriders seemed to be swallowed up by a grove of beeches that she would swear on Sigmar's bones had not been that close to the road before. The nuns heard frightened whinnys and battle cries from far to the west and north. the outriders had been headed southwest when last seen...

Some of the Sisters ran toward the grove that the outriders had last been seen in, others pushed into the green maze on the north side of the road. Confused shouts, screams and the clash of weapons echoed through the forest.

Mother strode forward trying to get a better vantage point. She climbed up into the crotch of a large oak with widespread branches near the trail. When she paused to look about her all she could see were the trunks of trees all around her. The road was no more...

Post Battle

Quote :

We had about twice the number of trees to move around.  Chris won without me doing any harm to any of his people.

I lost another 14 exp. henchwoman (Novice Rebekka).  Replaced her with Novice Rebekka II.
The Auger (suffers Multiple Injuries) lost an Initiative, back down to 5, WS up to 5, and misses the next game. (The Auger also rolled Survives against the Odds twice!) All but one (hero?) got advance rolls. 
I'm now at 308; still with 12 members, although only 11 get to play the next game.

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The Tainted Copse II
A Sequel in which Geshrat Learns of Sacrifice

Geshrat.
“Form a line!’ barked Geshrat. “Skebble on my right, you guard the left!” Geshsrat shoved the nearest novice toward the dark grove to the east of the human road. Geshrat could smell the human witch. He and his disciples had tracked her when she fled the ruin of the man-lair. The skaven monks had been forced to hide from the victorious man-things, but his warriors were fleet of foot now that the crippled Frayd had been culled from their ranks. The man-things had shadowed the witch as well. Geshrat did not know if they were her minions or what, but he had avoided further contact as his warriors nursed their wounds. Now though, now the moon was dark, the night belonged to the skaven! Now the man-things would learn.

Geshrat surveyed his line from behind D’mot’s bulk. A small pack of giant rats chittered and squeaked by the novices on the left. The trail of the witch led down this man-thing path, but there were other smells on the wind; man-things, corruption, smoke, horses and the brimstone reek of magic. This forest fairly sweated warpstone. Geshrat felt at home here in the living tunnels of root, trunk and branch, but he was a skaven, so he was on guard! His man-thing pet and the new sorcerer were on his left. Frayd’s rat familiar had bonded with the new sorcerer, but Geshrat knew that he had made his point with the death of Frayd. If he hadn’t, D’mot could use a snack… It was good-good!

D’mot growled.



Straight head of his line but many spear lengths off, a torch lit column of humans was crossing the road. He could hear their jabber and see their torches. Oh, it was wonderful! The blind fools would not see his dread disciples until Geshrat loosed them from the darkness! His hardy warriors could get behind the human line without being seen! He…

“Unclean! Unclean!” from the trail between Geshrat and the man-things wrenching shrieks broke the silence of the forest. The man-things halted and turned, peering into the darkness. A torchbearer moved toward Geshrat along the road. There were cries of alarm and weapons were pointed toward the howling voices. Now that a torch was directly across from him, Geshrat could see several hunched figures silhouetted in the path. They called alarms and waved their arms at the distant man-thing warriors. A bell began to ring of all things! Geshrat nearly bit his tail in two with frustration.

“F-Forward!” Geshrat hissed. “Quick-quick! Over-run them before they reform! Charge!”

The scabrous line surged forward. Geshrat veered around D’mot to seek the cover of the nearby wood. He heard a crash behind him and some cursing, but he pressed on. D’mot swept into one of the howling man-things. Geshrat heard the man’s bones snap. The bell rang a few more times as the rat ogre worried his prey, then it stopped. Perhaps the ogre had swallowed it.

As Geshrat gained the cover of the trees he became aware of another line of torches to his left. Another ambush! Traitors! Could his scouts do nothing?! Then he heard screams from the warriors to his left. A rider fell from a horse, which bolted into the darkness. The human line wavered. Perhaps the man-things warred amongst themselves, unaware of his disciples? Geshrat glanced toward his original target. A mounted warrior carrying a torch and his horse fell as Geshrat watched, pin cushioned with arrows. Warriors took cover or fired their bows at targets he could not see. Excellent! Geshrat plunged deeper into the concealing wood. As he ran he caught the scent of the witch. She was here! Hiding in this very wood!

“Follow me!” Geshrat ordered the monks nearest to him. He had lost track of D’mot as he moved through the forest. Now that he considered it, he could not see the torches of the man-things any more either. In front of him was a narrow forest path, used by animals. To his flanks the trunks of trees marched into the darkness. The sounds of battle were far off. Only five of his disciples were still with him, but he was sure the rest would catch up. They had only to follow him after all. The Great Priest rushed ahead close on the trail of the fleeing witch.

Week 13--The Skaven's Lucky Number

Wolf Hunt



The lonely howl broke the stillness of the wilderness. The bedraggled monks eyed the tree line and searched the rock outcroppings around them for danger. The giant rats chittered and squeaked in fear. They drew back closer to their larger brethren, causing the clumsy monks to step on their tails or trip over them.

Geshrat waited for D'mot to roar his challenge to the wolves. But there was no roar. D'mot was gone. Geshrat felt anger and pain at the desertion. To think that his pet D'mot would just wander off like that. Inconceivable! Geshrat glared at the new sorcerer. The priest had left D'mot in his care! The incompetent! (Actually Geshrat had left Mizzel in charge, but that was a mere detail. Everyone knew Mizzel was insane! The fool sorcerer should have immediately taken charge of D'mot.)

Geshrat growled himself, then he roared, "We serve the Horned Rat! Monks of Clan Pestilense do not fear the furry four legs! Come let us kill-kill these puny fur things!"

"Kill-yes-kill!" chittered Skebble. The warp addled fanatic was already rushing toward the distant trees. Geshrat glared at the rest of the disciples until they shuffled along after him. Soon the air was rent with war cries, howls and the screams of horses in pain. Horses? Ha! Gheshrat's tactic had worked! The wolves had fled the horrible advance of the irresistable Pandemium and crashed into his enemies! Just as he had forseen!

Just then Skebble and the sorcerer (known as a'Frayd because of the deference he paid Mizzel) caught up with fleeing wolves. A'Frayd must have cast some sorcery because suddenly the wolf he fought exploded in a green ball of warpfire! Unfortunately a'Frayd and several novices were caught in the blast. Worse Skebble had been overcome by the fumes from his censor again! The center of his line was twitching, smoldering and crawling blindly in bloody circles!

Geshrat prepared for a long day...

Post Battle
Despite a catastrophic beginning the Skaven attack massacres the Sisters of Sigmar. All of the Sisters heroes and most of the henchwomen are taken out of action. Mother suffers a Chest Wound! Another horse is killed as is an unknown henchwoman. Fortunately the Sisters killed 6 wolves so the Sigmarites had some income.

The Pandemium took victory as their due. One Novice is killed, but such are easily replaced.
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The Hermit



Geshrat was pleased with the great victory over the human females. Yes most pleased. But the victory reminded him of the witch who had evaded him. She must pay! He would pox her with his most potent plagues! Her skin would bubble from her bones! Yes!

Geshrat ordered the scouts assembled. "Find the Witch of Monteras!" he ordered. "Find-find her and we will have our revenge for D'mot! Go! Go!"

The scouts scampered into the wooded hills. Geshrat was certain that they would cease to move with such purpose once they had left his sight, but he had sent many for he expected incompetance. They could not all fail.

Soon the scouts returned. They had found the witch's trail! It led to a small hill not far from here. There was a cave in the north side of the hill, a cave and the strong scent of man-thing. Only one man-thing was there but there was also the the hum of magical wards. The scouts had hurried back to fetch the Great Priest, that he could break the wards and mete out terrible justice upon the fugitive.

Geshrat eyed the lightening sky. The fools had taken too long to find the witch. Dawn was coming. For all he knew the human would flee again. "Quick-quick!" Geshrat growled. "Take us all to the cave. Show us the witch! I, Geshrat, shall defeat her!"

Soon the disciples were arrayed at the edge of a wood. Before them the land rose. The lone hill dominated the rocky plain. Geshrat could not see the cave entrance but he could see several standing stones placed about the hill. He could feel the power of the wards. He glared at his human pet and the sorcerer, a'Frayd. "Earn your warp tokens," snarled Geshrat. "Defeat the warding stones that I may catch the witch in my paws."

A'Frayd and the human wizard advanced. The largest rat kept pace with a'Frayd. The creature seemed to talk to the sorcerer as it wound its way about his legs. Geshrat and the disciples followed. As they advanced the scouts called a warning. The human females had returned. They were advancing on the hill as well!

Geshrat deployed his forces to combat the new enemies and contain the witch should she try to flee. Geshrat himself advanced between his magic users as they broke the guarding wards. Once the wards failed Geshrat rushed ahead sure of his power. The scampering Skaven easily outpaced even the humans on horse. Thus Geshrat was able to reach the entrance to the cave well before the humans. His minions spread out to guard him from the approaching nuns as he entered.

Geshrat threw down the flimsy door and strode into the darkened inner chamber. He was struck by several well placed blows and knocked sprawling back through the door! As he lay dazed a robust human male advanced upon the foul skaven priest. The man radiated physical and spiritual strength. Geshrat tried desperately to crawl away...

Post Battle
The Truth Sayer failed to finish Geshrat. The hermit was instead defeated by the Great Priest. The Sisters of Sigmar fled as soon as possible but again too many heroes had fallen. Another Sister is killed by the dread skaven.

As they withdrew from the cave the skaven discover a small farm. When they leave there are only fire-blackened ruins.

The Wild Wood
A Tale of Enchantment by the Dark of the Moon



Akbar gazed in wonder at the lights dancing through the trees. This green, wet world was similar to the far south of his home continent, but it held wonders and terrors of its own. The little lights had led them on since the sound of children's laughter roused the camp. Now Akbar could see other lights joining the ones that had lured the Faithful on. Akbar wondered who or what followed the newcomers...

Suddenly all of the tiny lights came together in a bright flash of light followed by a shower of sparks, then darkness. From the dark echoed a woman's laughter rich with malice. Then a familiar voice spoke, "Welcome my brave ones! My children are homeless thanks to you, but it is so kind of you to come out to play with them!"

The laughter rang through the forest once again. Then there was silence. The Arabyans looked about helplessly. The night was dark as pitch. They could barely see more than a spear length in any direction. Then the Rais' voice reassured them, " Form a line, no further than half a spear length apart. Do not bunch up, but do not become separated."

The Rais' voice calmed them. The men aligned themselves as they had been trained. Akbar found himself near the end of the left flank. The Estalian road warden and the Tilean slave were to his left. Abu and Rashid were on his right. He could see no one else in the gloom but he knew the line extended on to his right.

Suddenly the silence of the night was shattered by the Freelancer's stallion. The warhorse called a challenge into the darkness. From his left Akbar heard a horse whinny in response. A man shouted in the distance. The night became a confused chorus of sound; shouted orders, breaking branches, frightened horses and under it all curious piping sounds and the laughter of evil djinn.

The Tilean slave screamed and collapsed. A slim arrow thrust up from her prone body. "Beware archers!" cried Senor Alphonso, the road warden. The Estalian guided his nervous horse closer to a small copse of trees. Akbar sought cover as well. Although since he could see no enemy, he did not know where an attack might come from.

There was a crash of breaking branches from the left. A voice cursed in a Bretonnian dialect. Tariq shouted, "There! It is it not beautiful? It is mine!" He staggered out of line toward the north. The rest of the Arabyans stared into the inky darkness, but saw nothing.

"He is bewitched!" called Al Kuds. "Restrain him!"

Selim reached out to stay Tariq's flight. The veteran soldier cried an oath and drew sword and dagger. He easily cut Selim down. Then he screamed, "The One forgive me! Selim, my brother, what have I done!" From the darkness the laughter of the djinn grew louder.

Post Battle
The Arm of the Protectorate broke first. Caught between the Cursed Arabyans and the Trulls, they suffered as well from the attentions of the Spites. A halfling is killed. A newly recruited Arabyan Corsair deserts and joins the Faithful.

The Trulls lost a hired wizard and a duelist killed. The Trulls are guided out of the Ghost Wood by an Imperial Huntsman. The Trulls gain all sorts of advantages in their next battle.

The Faithful win by default as the pirates and the Tileans clashed early on. The other warbands bled each other to their break points. The pirates fled voluntarily and the Trulls failed their next rout test.
The Arabyans were truly cursed. They rarely hit and even less often wounded. 2 out of their 3 charges failed because warriors tripped in the dark and only Arabyans became possessed by the Spites. Still a win is a win!
The Faithful lost their third and last Freelancer in four games, but everyone else recovered. A halfling scout is hired.

Yes, go ahead and beat up on those sweet, little girls!
After Wolf Hunt and The Hermit the Sisters of Sigmar are now down to 11 members, one horse, and went from 308 at the start of the night to 311 after those 2 games. Not a good night!

Nice reports.

I am so happy that we will play today too.

Are your Freelancers, Roadwardens etc. useful/worth their money?

Good luck with your game(s)!

My Roadwarden is great. He killed one of the Sister's heroes in his first game and has performed well even when I forget his skills and advances.

My knight was never so lucky. Although in his assigned role of target he excelled.(T4, 3+ AS) He always got hit with a no armor save Crit followed by OOA with the first volley of shots. Then he would die.

As far as value, I tend to look at it from the perspective of how well equiped and skilled the HS is. The knight has good weaponskill, T, S and I AND a high armor save with devestating weapons.

The Roadwarden has great weapons and skills, his low BS is not too much of a factor because his armor keeps him around and his skills make him a mobile support platform.

Playtable's Roadwarden soaked up tons of punishment and lasted several games before a pirate killed him.

The pirate's Roadwarden performs the target function more than the support function, He's easy to hit so everyone targets him first. The pirates have several good shots so they don't mind losing the missile support from the warden when he's shot.

Week 14--Hot Summer Nights

The Thing in the Woods
A Tale about being careful what you wish for...



The Thing
The creature growled deep in its throat. It was angry. It was always hungry. It was in pain. Sometimes the pain went away. But then the creature was weak, hairless. Now it was strong! Mighty! But the pain and the hunger were madening. Tonight there were more torments, the tiny spirits of the wood had driven it all night, their shrill music pained its ears. Never could it catch them, never could it escape, never could it hunt, until now. Here, near the edge of the wood where it never went, here was food. Much food. The creature heard a wailing howl from the south. There were others of its kind nearby. The beast raised its mishappen muzzle to the sky and joined in the chorus of the hunt...

The Tileans
The first howl came from the southeast. They all heard it. The Tilean line contracted as the men and women of Roxanna's company shrank from the surrounding woods.

"Hold," ordered the Captain. She carried her crossbow at the ready, but no target presented itself. "Watch the tree line," Roxanna continued. "They are in front of us."

The warriors with torches held them high and waved them so that the fires blazed bright. The howl was answered from the woods to the northeast. The beasts were close. Perhaps they could withdraw to the abandoned camp. They could build up their neglected fires. No, there was no time, the beasts were too close. The night was shattered by a ferocious roar. The Beast was here. There was no time to shoot before it struck the line.

Post Battle
The Faithful were trapped between the Sisters and one Thing. The Thing got 3 warriors. The Sisters shot, whipped or budgeoned 4 more. Fisal died of his injuries. The Tilean slave fell in the first volley of sling stones. She was not seen again. Akbar suffered a Chest Wound. The rest recovered despite the witch's curse.

The Sisters withdrew before either the rampaging Thing or the victorious Tileans could reach them. The Augur's horse died. Another was purchased.

The Trulls had chosen the scenario in hopes of aquiring a lycanthrope infected henchman. As fate would have it only Captain Roxanna and one other hero were taken OOA by a Thing. Roxanna is infected and she hates the Things...

The Necromancer's Tower

'Twas a hot, muggy summer night, Geshrat felt he could almost drink the air. Several of his weakest runts had collapsed on the march. It was shameful. The Great Priest allowed himself several delicious moments imagining the tortures he would inflict on the cowards. They shamed themselves. They angered the Great Horned Rat.

Geshrat paused. Ahead loomed the great bulk of a man-lair-place. His pet man-thing pointed and said, "There Master! The Tower of Lopez de Lupe, the Witch of Monteras is bound to come here. The tower holds secrets of great power!"



Geshrat peered into the gloom of the night. His recent wounds form the duel with the man-thing of the cave still pained him. The witch would pay for her betrayal. She thought she could escape him, Geshrat the Horrible!

"Go-go, fly Sssimon-son," Geshrat ordered. "Bring me the key to this power!"

"Now?" cringed the man-thing. "Master, it is a place of power. I must prepare. Perhaps a'Frayd could lend me his familiar..."

"NOW!" barked Geshrat. His pet was always preparing, never doing!

The man-thing cringed and groveled. Then he muttered some strange words and leapt into the muggy air. Geshrat loved to watch his pet fly. The man soared up into the air...
Suddenly the air was rent by a bright flash of lightning form the distant tower. His pet was caught in the blast. Geshrat's night sensitive eyes were blinded by the flash. When he could see again his pet was gone.

"Drive the giant rats forward, quick-quick!" Geshrat ordered. The man-lair was dangerous.

Post Battle
Geshrat is unable to force his minions to capture the tower. Simonson the Warlock is killed by the magical wards.

The Arm of the Protectorate suffer from the heat, but are able drive the Pandemium off.

Skirmish I
The Arm of the Protectorate turns to the Dark Side


Captain Roxanna sniffed the night air. Since her battle with the wolf-thing in the forest she had noticed that she was more aware of smells and sounds than she had been. Her comrades seemed to avoid her company more than usual, but she did not mind. She was the Captain after all and besides, they stank.

Somewhere nearby were the lackeys of Bretonnia. Roxanna could not see them, but she could smell the horse and hear the noise of their advance. The horse was nervous, she could smell its fear.

The pirates were interested in this old burial ground. At first Roxanna had thought that they searched for treasure as pirates will, but now that she was nearer her senses told her something else. The pirates carried something old with them now. Something old that smelled of death and corruption.

Post Battle
The Trulls suffer several casualties and withdraw. The night is unlucky for the Tileans. Exact casualty figures are unavailable.

The Arm of the Protectorate are victorious twice in one evening.

Skirmish II



The Children of the One.
The Arabyans trudged through the dark forest. The Morrsleib was full above them, its sinister radiance bathed the wood in deceptive light. The men of the desert marched with hunched shoulders. Their hands clutched amulets and charms. Their lips moved in prayers to the One. Each man knew he was cursed. The djinn of this foreign land had cast the Evil Eye upon them.

Briefly they had escaped the twisted trees of this horrible forest, but the she-devil that had cursed them had led them back. Always she danced before them, taunting them, reviling them. This evening at dusk she had appeared at the camp's edge. They had fired arrows and run madly into the forest to rend her, but she was gone. Her taunting laughter drew them on. Now they had mastered their rage to find themselves lost in the dark wood. Then the Rat-devils had come.

The Pandemium.
"Find-hunt the female!" Geshrat screeched at his new man-thing pet-slave and the worm, a'Frayd. "Find kill her now! Witch-thing was right-there-close!"

Geshrat pointed vaguely to the east. They had traveled for many time spans since that awful tower-place-thing. Always the witch escaped him. Geshrat the Priest of Clan Pestilens! Impossible! He glared at a'Frayd while the sorcerer whispered to his rat familiar. The beast rose on its hind paws and cast about with its snout. Geshrat fumed. They had all seen-smelled the witch not a hundred heart beats ago. Geshrat clashed his swords together as he contemplated the joy of chopping the huge rat into tiny bloody pieces.

Before Geshrat could pounce, the rat familiar scampered into the forest. The rest of the rat pack followed it. Geshrat kicked a novice (rather than slash him with the sword as he wanted). "Follow quick-fast sluggard!" Geshrat ordered.

The whole band rushed into the shadows of the wood. Geshrat was filled with the joy of the hunt, even as he noticed his novices spreading out as the rat pack suddenly split. Each rat seemed to follow a different trail. His column became a line, then the line split as the skaven threaded their way through the woods. Geshrat stayed close to a'Frayd and his familiar. The huge rat was chittering as it ran. Often it glanced back at them as if to assure itself that they still followed.

It rounded a bend in the trail. Geshrat and a'Frayd rushed to follow so as not to lose the rat in the trees. Suddenly the forest was even brighter. Straight ahead of them was a compact group of human warriors! The rat familiar ran back to cower by a'Frayd. Geshrat quickly shoved a novice in front of himself. None to soon! The novice crumpled with a dark bolt in its shoulder.

A mounted warrior rode toward Geshrat working the lever on a crossbow as he rode. "Kill-maim!" Geshrat ordered the giant rats. They cowered from the warrior's torch. "Slings! Spells!" screamed Geshrat. "Kill!"

A volley of sling stones knocked the warrior from the terrified horse. It bolted back toward the advancing men. The giant rats leapt upon the prone warrior. Geshrat's horde surged forward.

And checked. The armored warrior brushed off the attacks of the giant rats, he regained his feet and smote them. More humans rushed to form a line beside him. A blunderbuss was fired on the left. Geshrat could hear squeaks of pain and fear from his worthless minions. Arrows shot out of the night to fall among his ranks as skaven jostled each other to get to the fight (or at least appeared to).

Geshrat cursed his useless underlings and pushed forward. He spied a huge man-thing in a helmet wound with cloth. Geshrat remembered the man-thing. It was big, but not strong like Geshrat. "Man-thing! Geshrat kill-kill you now!" challenged the priest. The man-thing easily parried his swords and slashed back. Geshrat wondered if he had perhaps recalled the wrong man-thing. The priest gave ground.

A'Frayd and his familiar appeared at the edge of the clearing. The sorcerer seemed to have grown in size. Dark fires flickered and flashed around him as he chanted. Then the sorcerer released the spell into the center of the human line. Many warriors fell in the blast. It was wonderful. The human line crumpled. The men began to back away from the fight. Then the humans fled into the night. Geshrat frowned has he watched a'Frayd lead the pursuit.

Post Battle
The Arabyans suffer many casualties. Jud the Accursed and Selim are killed outright. Achmed Al Kuds suffers and leg wound and must miss a battle.
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Interlude
Geshrat called his pet-slave to his quarters. The man-thing had fallen in the first volley. He had done nothing. Geshrat had an errand for him. A secret errand. The man-thing mewled piteously and complained of its wounds. Geshrat explained the necessity of obedience and sent him on his way.

The next evening Geshrat announced that a'Frayd would march with him in the place of honor at the rear of the column. The sorcerer and his familiar strutted along at Geshrat's side, filled with pride and power.

"You have done-performed well-good," Geshrat flattered the fool. Geshrat was watching his pet for the signal. The man-thing limped and would not meet his eye. Geshrat fumed while a'Frayd explained how he had studied with the Masters of Disease at...

"Interesting-very," said Geshrat. "I must see-beat-punish my slave." The priest stepped toward the faltering warlock, who suddenly gave a load groan and collapsed in the road.

Several things happened at once. Huge fires burst up on either side of the trail. Skaven voices squealed and chittered in fear. A human voice shouted a command. A volley of harquebus fire raked the end of the skaven column. Geshrat was struck a blow and fell. He heard Mizzel scream, "Kill-kill them! Kill them all!"
_______________________________________________________________________________________________

The exploration event "Empire Patrol" kills more skaven than the battle with the Arabyans. Skebble suffers Multiple Injuries, Geshrat suffers an Arm Wound and a'Frayd and his familiar are killed.

Week 15--Estalian Sunset

We had full attendance for our last game of the campaign. Last week someone had asked what would happen if the woods moved while we played 'The Thing in the Woods'. So we set out to find out. We played on a 4x6 table with 12 numbered woods bases of varying sizes. 2 Things were set up in randomly determined woods and a model representing the Witch of Monteras was set up in a ruin in the center of the board. A few standing stones and single trees were added to taste.

Each warband brought 9 models. Old Battle Wounds were rolled as normal (I think, I had to run and pickup my warband roster from home. Doh!)
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The Things, the Witch and the Wildwood

The Twisted Wood


The Witch
The ruin was overgrown. Two of the walls had collapsed and most of the roof was gone. No trail led to the building though it appeared less than five years old. On this day the place looked almost festive, although it was obivious the festival was not very nice.

The woman known as the Witch of Monteras was humming a catchy tune from the markets of her childhood. Today was going to be a sort of Market Day, a sort. She looked at the tiny dolls she had made.

"Geshrat," she called. "You are getting a little ratty, my friend! Hehe! Your hem is unraveling and your stuffing is coming out. Oh, and you've hurt your paw, how sad."

The witch turned and picked up another doll. She set it down near the Geshrat doll.

"Look, brave Achmed has hurt his leg," the witch said in a sing-song voice indicating the doll's broken leg. "You won't get to play with him today, but there will be lots of other victims, Great Priest, don't worry."

The witch felt someone watching her. She turned. One of her pets was trying to hide in the undergrouth surrounding the ruin. When it saw her turn it rose to its full height and growled.

"What? Stop sulking!" chided the witch. The huge Thing whined. "Are your friends here? Why didn't you say so? Go! Go play with them. They will be so surprised to see you in the daylight!"

The wolf-thing raised its muzzle and howled. Another howl answered it from the depths of the forest. Followed by what sounded like a scream.

"Be off now," ordered the witch. "Our guests have arrived. Hurry, you will be late for the feast!"

The Thing
The beast sniffed the dank forest air. Food! Food was approaching. The beast sensed wariness and fear. This was good! But the best also sensed weapons, cold iron. This was not good. Yet the beast hungered. The beast heard a questing howl from the west. It joined its voice with the call to hunt. The beast moved toward the scent of food.



It had not gone far when it saw a lone female approaching cautiously through the wood. The beast could sense others nearby. The female suddenly looked at the beast and screamed in fright. The female ducked out of sight. The beast rose up and roared. It rushed after the prey.

Suddenly it sensed a change in the scent of the prey. It drew up at the edge of the wood. Across a clearing it could see a group of prey. They shouted and pointed at the beast. But something was different about these prey. One of its kind lurked among them, but it had not changed yet. It was there, hairless and weak. The beast paused. A roar sounded from the woods beyond. The group of prey in front of him turned to meet a new threat. They moved quickly out of sight. The beast moved to follow them and discovered yet another group of prey. These creatures smelled of decay and disease, the beast snarled with distaste. Yet one among them was wounded. The scent of fesh blood maddened the beast unbearably. It charged.


(To be Continued)