After some machiavellianism that would have made Custorias proud, I arrived just after 1pm to find the forces of Chaos arrayed on the table as a veritable wall of bronze, steel and bad intentions!
Opening moves
Lee races his hounds across the field, I've heard he likes to use them to flush out his opponents and catches them on the counter charge. So I plan to hold the charge as long as possible and use Marcus to blast them with his fire spells and force them to flee.
Marcus opens up on the Hounds flanking my left and force them to flee....
but the other unit rush my right flank and force my Knights to pivot to face this threat. Thankfully the Chaos warriors only move 4" and I should have time to see them off before the big boys arrive. Time will tell!
I am slowly being hemmed in and worry if I am routed I will flee the table before I can regroup. With a Whoop of joy mingled with some trepidation Custoras sends in the Gryphs to force Lee onto the back foot and hopefully force a hole in the Chaos line the Knights can escape through and exploit.
This photo gives some idea of the dire straits I am in and this attack needs to yield results.
Marcus does not beware the voices and decides to offer himself as a target to the chariot. Probably seemed like a good idea at the time!
Lee is a 25 year veteran of Warhammer and has spent most of those years playing Empire, but has never fielded Demigryphs in his forces. I think thats all about to change (fingers crossed)!
Once again I look on in disbelief as Lee works out his attack die, man I hope the Imperial armourers were concentrating the day they banged out our suits of armour!!
Turns out they were as Lee only inflicts one wound on the Gryphs before they get to work. The Gryphs go nuts, more out of relief then anything else and inflict enough wounds to force the morale check.
To Lees astonishment they fail the test and bolt for the nearest table edge. The Gryph Knights spur on their mounts and cut the Chaos warriors down in an orgy of slaughter that would have pleased Khorne himself!
With a scream of frustration to the heavens (Lee really is getting into role), Lee demands retribution and targets the Empire wizard as his charge target. Once again to Lee's astonishment Markus stands his ground and prepares to meet his fate (and I did not want him to bolt and open up the knights to a charge!)
With a little chuckle to himself Lee picks up his 3 die and only needs to roll a 5, paybacks a bitch!
Once again the Chaos gods show they are fickle in their favours and Lee only rolls a 4 on three die! Sigmar be praised the Knights are facing the right way and the charge is on!
Markus wipes his brow, rips off his soiled under loins (the camp washer woman is going to be working overtime tonight) and turns to take bloody retribution on the second unit of hounds sneaking up behind him and threatening to charge my knights in the rear. He turns 4 of the hounds into hot dogs (pun intended) and the sole survivor legs it for the back table edge.
END GAME
With his Lucky red cap held high Custoras urges on "the second sons of Custoras" for one last roll of the die and they crash into the Chaos chariot to reap the crimson tempest (this act of desperation was basically to stop the chariot charging and scything through the Knights) until the Gryphs can rejoin the fray.
To everyones surprise, the knights do enough to win the combat and with another howl to the heavens Lee fails his morale check and the Chariot is cut down by the jubilant Knights in an epic confrontation that Bards will sing throughout the empire for years to come!
Custoras wipes black offal from his sword of might and is already planning his dispatch back to the Empire. Surely such a series of victories will secure his command of this expedition?
He looks sheepishly at the Last Bretonian and he will have to present him with a bottle of his finest wine from his personal store after forcing him into the potential blast zone of Marcus' miscast spell. C'est la vie
FOOTNOTE
As I leave the Miniature empire I am sure I see Lee scouring the shelves for a box of Demigryphs!
EDIT
Here is Lee's write up for the MEGC forum
"Had Baruk retained the enfeebling fears of mortals he might have felt
unnerved. The army that confronted him across the bay seemed somehow
more determined than most. It mattered not. Years ago he had been a
formidable enemy, now he was a champion of Khorne; a warrior without
equal amongst his kinsmen from the north. Mighty warbands had fallen
beneath his shadow; the slaughter he wrought amusing the fickle gods of
chaos. These knights of the Empire would be no different. And yet the
enemies before him were somehow different – men drawn together in common
cause. Men who had not yet accepted defeat.
The hounds swept forward, the ruinous scent of them unnerving the imperial mounts, forcing them to turn about for fear of being outflanked by the unnatural beasts. A storm of flame from the sorcerer scattered the others. And then through the burning undergrowth it came; a blood soaked chariot of chaos ready to smash into the imperial line. Clutching a skull from his enveloping robes and muttering enigmatically the wizard desperately called for more ferocious flame to fall upon the warmachine but his sorcery was no match for the hell wrought iron of its construction. Death had taken shape but the inevitable onslaught did not come. Held by the clinging vines and clawing roots of an enraged jungle the chariot was slowed to a crawl (I only needed a 5!!)
And now, as a warm tropical rain began to fall, Baruk’s end had come. As he watched the imperial cavalry charge through the jungle with cold, shimmering steel and grim resolve he could almost hear the fickle gods laughing. He felt no fear, such senses had long been lost to him, but as the Griffon Knights tore into his warriors and swept them all aside with bestial fury he grudgingly recalled the memory of it"
EDIT 2
Custoras was carried into camp on the shoulders of the jubilant men of the line, his lucky red cap held aloft. Marcus “the beast slayer” Darklore by his side, hoisted high and cheered by the imperial host. A vacant look in his eyes like a man sleep walking.
Each Red cap and knight hailed Custoras as a hero of the Empire and swore an oath to fight shoulder to shoulder with him in battles to come to the bitter end!
The cannon crew fired their gun in salute to the heroes of Barracuda Bay. As its report echoed through the camp Marcus’ eyes snapped into focus, his visage a portrait of a man waking from a nightmare. Startled he listened to his comrades’ report of the battles. The Elf eagle burnt to cinders, his single handed destruction of the chaos hell hounds, Markus “the beast slayer” standing alone before the Chaos chariot, unflinching before its charge, a true hero of the empire! Bewildered Marcus pulled the skull from his robes and stared into its eye sockets, an ember of burning red barely visible within the core of the jewel embedded within its forehead.
Custoras’ head was whirling with possibilities. Two victories in three days, although the first battle had nearly been his last. Struck from his saddle by an Elf arrow and knocked unconscious by the unforgiving ground, only saved from caving his skull in by his lucky red cap. If the Gryphs had not carried the field his hat would not have saved him from an Elf blade between the shoulder blades no matter how lucky it had been!
And then running into the Lords of Chaos on the return to camp. Marcus had been a pillar of fire, a rock of insane courage. Forget his snivelling fathers pitiful plans of a trading post! Custoras dared to dream bigger, a colony, his own fiefdom, his own southern empire! Emperor Custoras the Sigmar of the south!
Surely the gods of fate had spoken!
LESSONS LEARNTThe hounds swept forward, the ruinous scent of them unnerving the imperial mounts, forcing them to turn about for fear of being outflanked by the unnatural beasts. A storm of flame from the sorcerer scattered the others. And then through the burning undergrowth it came; a blood soaked chariot of chaos ready to smash into the imperial line. Clutching a skull from his enveloping robes and muttering enigmatically the wizard desperately called for more ferocious flame to fall upon the warmachine but his sorcery was no match for the hell wrought iron of its construction. Death had taken shape but the inevitable onslaught did not come. Held by the clinging vines and clawing roots of an enraged jungle the chariot was slowed to a crawl (I only needed a 5!!)
And now, as a warm tropical rain began to fall, Baruk’s end had come. As he watched the imperial cavalry charge through the jungle with cold, shimmering steel and grim resolve he could almost hear the fickle gods laughing. He felt no fear, such senses had long been lost to him, but as the Griffon Knights tore into his warriors and swept them all aside with bestial fury he grudgingly recalled the memory of it"
EDIT 2
Custoras was carried into camp on the shoulders of the jubilant men of the line, his lucky red cap held aloft. Marcus “the beast slayer” Darklore by his side, hoisted high and cheered by the imperial host. A vacant look in his eyes like a man sleep walking.
Each Red cap and knight hailed Custoras as a hero of the Empire and swore an oath to fight shoulder to shoulder with him in battles to come to the bitter end!
The cannon crew fired their gun in salute to the heroes of Barracuda Bay. As its report echoed through the camp Marcus’ eyes snapped into focus, his visage a portrait of a man waking from a nightmare. Startled he listened to his comrades’ report of the battles. The Elf eagle burnt to cinders, his single handed destruction of the chaos hell hounds, Markus “the beast slayer” standing alone before the Chaos chariot, unflinching before its charge, a true hero of the empire! Bewildered Marcus pulled the skull from his robes and stared into its eye sockets, an ember of burning red barely visible within the core of the jewel embedded within its forehead.
Custoras’ head was whirling with possibilities. Two victories in three days, although the first battle had nearly been his last. Struck from his saddle by an Elf arrow and knocked unconscious by the unforgiving ground, only saved from caving his skull in by his lucky red cap. If the Gryphs had not carried the field his hat would not have saved him from an Elf blade between the shoulder blades no matter how lucky it had been!
And then running into the Lords of Chaos on the return to camp. Marcus had been a pillar of fire, a rock of insane courage. Forget his snivelling fathers pitiful plans of a trading post! Custoras dared to dream bigger, a colony, his own fiefdom, his own southern empire! Emperor Custoras the Sigmar of the south!
Surely the gods of fate had spoken!
1) Imperial armour really is the nuts, but there must be stuff out there wth armour piercing etc which will rip me to pieces and I will need to look at augment spells to buff up my units.
2) I was really pleased with my manoeuvring of my units and target selection. Lee is a veteran of 25 years and I feel I held my own against such a salty dog.
3) Sometimes it pays to take a chance against all reason and roll the die, if nothing else it confuses the hell out of your opponent and gives you a tale to tell!
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