"PARLEY!", the booming voice of the Witch Finder resonated through the ruined hall of the Great Library....."PARLEY!", its authority bringing the swirling melee to a sudden halt.
'Bob' pulled Eric to his feet and watched as Eric rested his head against the barricaded door to stop the room spinning. "Go on" Eric said in his young voice "Eh....... I mean GO ON!" he repeated mimicking the former Lord Crashhart.
 |
| "Taxi !!!!!" |
"Crashhart I've heard your nothing but bluster and a thrusting cod piece, BUT even a fool like you must recognise the threat of the approaching undead. Further bloodshed will only weaken our bands further for the approaching scavengers!"
Eric took a deep breath and was thankful the door blocked anyone seeing his hands shaking so badly he could barely keep hold of his sword "So what do you propose, Lord Witchfinder?".
Both Warbands awaited Shannow's response with bated breath. . . . .
 |
| The calm before the storm? |
Rumours abounded of a demonic scroll hidden within the tower of the Great Libarby. Three warbands arrived simultaniously to investigate; the witch finders of Neil (to destroy it), the Reikland mercenaries of Riot (to sell it) and the Vampire coven of Macca (to plunder it's secrets)........
The walls of the Great Libarby were destined to run red with blood.
We entered the "Shed of Lead" to find the following set out.
This was going to be epic!
I set my depleted warband in the South East corner. It looks like Eric...... sorry I mean the Dread Lord Crashhart is already calling a cab!
 |
| "Taxi for Crashhart!" |
Neil set up his Hidden 13 in the South West corner. Don't worry about the scarey looking Halbards, Macca and I discovered they are for display purposes only as they are not on Neil's equipment list.
Macca CAMPS his warband in the Northwest corner and that will be the last we hear of him tonight!
I win initiative and bolt all my warband through the nearest door and make a bee line for the tower. All that is except Grim who struggles to keep up and Neil's Elf plugs him with an arrow, but fails to wound. This is a theme which will run through the game.
Macca's warband creep up to the edge of the nearest building, take a look at the approaching Ogre and develop Agoraphobia.
 |
| "What do you mean you want me to head out into the open?" |
Second turn and Neil and I charge further into the gloom of the Great Hall.
Macca's Warband show an unusual interest in the local stonework and refuse to move. I feel the stand off between my Ogre and Macca's ENTIRE warband is a fair trade off.
Grim goes into hiding in a futile attempt to ambush the Elf.
Neil splits his warband and stations an archer to hold off Macca's ENTIRE warband. Macca pops his head above the parapit but a run of 6's from Neil sees the demise of one Ghoul by the single archer and its back into hiding for Maccas band.
I am starting to panic as I am fast approaching Neils warband and am now regretting having my Ogre stomping round the back, playing kiss chase with zombies and Elf rangers, when my beat stick should be at the front cracking skulls.
I then notice the small gap between Neils access way and the door of the tower. I figure I can use this bottle neck to stop Neil swarming me with his bigger warband and therefore taking away his biggest advantage over me at the moment. If he refuses to charge me I will just blast away into the breach and wittle him away rather then charge into the open where Neil can use the space to get ALL his warband into action That is until I can get Arnold Leggenbreaker (my Ogre) back into the action.
I will also race Spook up the tower to hopefully kill Lei Yung (Neils archer holding back the undead horde). This will hopefully entice Macca out of the shadows to harry Neils rear (ohh er misses) and set Spook up for something I have been longing to do for WEEKS!
I station Archie at the base of the stairs to direct Macca towards Neils rear rather then risk the barrage of arrows if he heads towards me.
The best laid plans of mice and men and all that.
Stage one works a dream as Neils can only get two of his Warband into melee, and despite his superior numbers I have the advantage!
I have one final go at catching the Elf with "Little and Large" before running Arnold back towards the tower. Hopefully Grim will be enough of a deterrent for the Elf.
 |
| "Come here you wee pansy. Little and Large will send you off to the Grey Havens!" |
My warband pull down Neil's first wave assault AND I plug Lei Yung as planned. I am feeling pretty pleased with myself.
Then two things happen at once that slaps the "eat shit" grin from my face;
First Neil steps forward with Merrick and declaires he is armed with a blunderbuss! He then proceeds to open fire at point blank range hitting all four of the defenders of the breach automatically!
Thankfully only Dread Lord Crashhart is wounded. The lucky sod is only knocked down and he manages to crawl into the tower and barrace the door behind him to allow him to recover his senses!
 |
| KABOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!! |
Secondly I fail to notice the interrogator and flagellent hiding under the tower and they both come crashing out of the shadows to kick the shit out of poor Archie!
However they both get the fright of their (short) life when Arnold comes crashing back into the room
 |
| "I told you I'll be back!" |
I decide to stick with the plan and blast away with pistols into the breach and wait for Arnold to stomp the two henchmen pooping their pants and join the fray.
At this point I am embarrased to say I turned into a bit of a "Warmahordes" player and become a real stickler for the rules, but I cannot afford another kicking, and a bad turn could not just see me out of the game but also out of the campaign!
Sometimes you just have to be a bit of a dick and hide behind the wording of a rule. My being a "jobs worth" about line of sight stifles Neil's second wave of assaults. This is particulally important as Neil decides to charge the pair which ambushed Archie into the breach rather then risk the wrath of Arnold
 |
| "once more into the breach dear friends. Once more!" |
This is the moment I have been waiting for as Neil finally brings Shannow to the fore. All campaign Spook has been building his initiative which is perfect for diving charges! I decide now is the time and go all in as Spook launches himself off the tower landing on top of Shannow and hitting him with +1 to hit and +1 strength!
Here goes nothing.........
 |
| A spooks eye view |
I have to be honest I go more then a little nuts when I pull off the diving charge (sorry to Neils neighbours!)!
I do not take Shannow out of action but it does seem to knock some sense into him as Neil suggests a truce to combat the approaching undead horde.
I have to admit I did feel bad for Macca but Neil has my Nuts in a vice, with Crazy Bob on the verge of being Curb stomped due to his being stunned and both Eric and 'Bob' unable to charge out of the tower to join the fray due to the press of bodies in front of the door!
Lano then pipes up with "Neil don't trust Mike, he stabbed me in the back when I offered the same deal before!" I have to admit this is true but all bets are off when it comes to Lano as it does not matter how much I like him, whenever I look at him I see a bullseye in the middle of his chest (or back!)!
It's been TWO years and I yet to beat the smiling assassin!
Hesitantly I shake Neils hand and we turn to combat the approaching rotters.
Macca does the wise thing and offers up a Zombie as a pawn, which I stomp with Arnold and Macca takes his 25% casualties and declares!
BLOODY HELL WHAT A GAME!!!!!
Thats two nail biters back to back but I'm still in the game!
SORRY MACCA!
EDIT
Here is how Neil wrote up the encounter. Enjoy
A Dangerous Liaison : Curse of the Unlife
EDIT
Here is how Neil wrote up the encounter. Enjoy
A Dangerous Liaison : Curse of the Unlife
Baladan held his lantern aloft to
examine the crusted sewer entrance. He was not sure whether it was the
darkness ahead or the putrid smell coming from within the tunnel that
made him reluctant to enter but he did not want to go in. Behind him the
rest of the Thirteen waited not that he took much notice. They rarely
came near him and he was aware that they spoke about him when they
thought he could not hear. They called him the Interrogator behind his
back, a name that he cared not for but it suited him to keep the fools
away from him so he did nothing to change their views. Let them think
what they wanted and be damned with them.
Baladan continued to examine the
tunnel entrance attempting to peer deeper inside. The scratched runes
carved probably with bleeding fingers were exactly as the Cultist had
described and if he was telling the truth lead directly to the Temple
where Shannow wanted to go. Baladan grinned at the thought the
possibility of the Cultist telling the truth, when you pluck out a man’s
eye with a hot dagger he seldom tells you anything but the truth he
mused to himself.
Tracing his fingers along the crude
runes scored Baladan crouched low to peer into the gloom. He did not
like what he could not see nor did he like the smell emanating from the
tunnel as the pungent smell of death and decay reminded him of days long
before bringing bitter memories to the surface. He remembered flies
buzzing in putrid flesh and the stark white of an exposed ribcage picked
clean by ravens before he forced the thoughts from his mind.
I could tell them that it is the
wrong tunnel Baladan mused to himself as he squatted by the tunnel and
looking over his shoulder at the rest of the Thirteen who were resting
within the scorched ruin that sheltered the tunnel whilst he sought the
way ahead. His eyes fell on Shannow who stood alone and away from the
group his tall Outland Hat hiding his scowling face whilst his long
black leather jacket flapped around his waist being picked up by the
wind. Shannow’s hands were resting easy on the two silver handled guns
secured on his belt but Baladan knew that he could draw them and bring
them to bear in an instant as he had seen done so many times before.
Baladan felt Shannow’s gaze upon
him and looked briefly at the Hunter. Cold blue eyes , a heavy stubbled
jaw and shoulder length grey hair which jutted like straw from beneath
the wide brimmed hat met his gaze and Baladan felt his strength bear
straight through him. Baladan looked away, too quickly for sure, feeling
that Shannow was reading his mind but knowing that it should not be
possible. Damn he knows my soul!
Forcing his mind to concentrate on
the task at hand he looked away and back into the gloom of the tunnel
and fought to control the panic rising in his gut. It’s not the dark he
told himself, it’s the smell, oh God I can’t bear that smell. Images
began to form in his mind, dark images of a village, his village, of
riders arriving from the west whom claimed to be travelers yet armed for
war. The riders stayed overnight in the Chieftain's Hall and offered
gold to pay their way. The Chieftain, always a greedy man took them into
his hall whilst slipping their payment into his coffers even though the
rest of the village, Baladan included, locked their doors ever
suspicious of armed men arriving amongst their peasant community.
Later that night the screams
started coming from the Chieftan’s Hall. Baladan locked his wife and
children into his bedroom as he stood cudgel in hand shivering by the
rough wooden door that was his home too scared to open the door but
shaking every time a tortured wail came from outside the door…
… the shadow that fell over Baladan
brought him back to the stinking city of Mordhiem. Resisting the
instinct to react he looked up at the shadow that loomed over him and
felt Shannows gaze bear down on him as weights of stone.
“We move forward then Interrogator?” Shannow asked, a statement not a question.
“Yes Hunter Shannow we could”
Baladan uncomfortable under Shannow’s gaze. “But the way ahead says
death to me, there are those who will try to stop our passing.”
“We move on then Interrogator. You will lead the way.” Shannow did not move.
“Yes Lord.”
“If they come it will be an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and a life for a life.” Shannow intoned as his hands moved to his guns.
“Yes Lord.”
Baladan cursed himself, he swore he
would call no man Lord again but Shannow made him feel again the
peasant he was and the peasant he had tried so hard not to be no matter
how hard he tried.
Over Shannow’s shoulder he could
see the Warband beginning to stir and move towards the tunnel some
drawing weapons as they prepared for the journey ahead.
A deadly tunnel at his back and
Shannow in front of him, Baladan sighed and turned into the tunnel
knowing death was both in front of him and behind him.
***
The cultist had been wrong or he may have lied, as the tunnel had not led to the Temple of Sigmar as he had foretold.
As he pushed through the dark of
the tunnel and towards the dim greyed light ahead Baladan brushed the
thoughts from his mind. I cut his eyes, his ears and his mouth before I
sliced his inner thighs and watched the life bleed from him so if the
fool lied he probably never knew what I wanted to know he mused to
himself no pity in him.
Behind him he could hear the others
shuffling through the tunnel and as he reached the end of the tunnel
and stepped into the moon lit-night he cast his eyes about taking in his
surrounds.
Ahead of him was a large building,
round and stone build, high and with open with wide windows. Hanging
from hooks were the remains of the long dead, grimacing in pain and with
them swords, weapons and armor long rusted from exposure to the
elements. A double doorway ahead lay rotten and open inviting those to
enter.
This place must be old Baladan
thought to himself, places built of brick and stone had been built by
his ancestors but those skills had long been lost in the dark ages of
his times.
A hand fell on his shoulder.
“I have seen these places before”
said Uthred, the tall blond haired Northman moving aside Baladan his
plate armor curiously reassuring. “It is, well was a warrior lodge, a
place of war and combat. People would pay to see others fight, I have
seen places such as this on my travels.”
Baladan looked into Uthred one
remaining eye and wondered how he could see anything, simply nodded not
wanting to argue with the one eyed hardy warrior.. Shannow walked passed
the two warriors, with Merrick and Lei Yung their crossbows armed and
in tow and headed into the shattered doors of the Amphitheater.
***
The Elf, silent in both movement
and his thoughts brought the Warband to a halt within the ancient
dueling building. Turning to the Thirteen he said “We are not alone.”
before moving off into the shadows.
The stairs ahead of them lead up
and to a single open door and they became aware of noises ahead of them.
Baladan strained to listen ahead but Lei Yung, who was crouched next to
him and breathing heavily and Merrick who was hastily loading his
deadly blunderbuss between them drowned out any chance he had of hearing
what was ahead. The stairs were single file and everyone knew that to
move on them in would leave them dangerously exposed and open to
slaughter. Shannow who was crouched alongside the overweight Priest
signaled at them to advance.
Baladan, crossbow in hand moved forward and up the stairs. He was scared.
Feeling scared he was used to, but
the last time he felt this scared was back at the village. He remembered
standing, cudgel in hand by the door but he remembered little else
after the screaming. When he had awoke he was on the dirt path outside
his homestead though he knew not how he had got there. As he had roused
himself he was aware of smoke from the Chieftains Hall and bodies in the
street but his thoughts were to his own front door and his stomach had
churned as saw that the door to hiss cottage was open and was hanging
on its hinge.
Once inside slowly and struggling
from the injuries he had suffered he had blindly moved his way into his
house and stepping over the upturned table and few smashed possessions
that littered the floor towards the room he had left his family in.
Inside he had found death, fly bloated, rib exposed death of his family
and he had crumbled to his knees. He had nothing left, it was all gone,
he was alone, but those who had taken it would pay and pay in blood. He
had buried his slaughtered children and his disemboweled wife and had
left he next day. He would be forever haunted by their bodies, gutted
and desecrated by the warriors of Chaos.
Shannow had found him when driven
by loss and rage he had attempted to sign up to a militia band destined
for the northern shores and the rest, as they say was history.
Bringing his mind back to the
present, Baladan ran up the stairs praying that the next arrow would not
be his. One thing was for sure, those that had taken his loved ones
would pay on with their blood and he would make sure they suffered
before they met any God that they chose to serve.
Uthred was at the top of the stairs
and Baladan following the heavily armored warrior was close behind.
Ahead the stairs ended with a open wooden door which Uthred moved
swiftly through raising his wooden shield as he did so. Arrows thudded
home into the shield and Uthred, continued forward towards the unseen
enemies beyond the doorway. Baladan stepped forward and risked a glance
through the door. Ahead he could see Uthred was in a wide walkway which
overlooked a fighting pit. Uthred was grunting with effort as he fought
three humans alone, blocking with his shield whilst his war hammer
lashed out at his foes.
Their not cultists, thought Baladan
taking stock of the humans. Their dress was not dissimilar to that of
the Thirteen and they fought with calm efficiency of trained warriors
rather than the wild frenzy of a cultist. Together they were working
Uthred as a group, covering each other and wearing the armored warrior
down. One Human in particular stood out. Clad in black tight clothing
and with a black mask covering his eyes he appeared to be some sort of
bandit leader though the fighting skills of him and his men dismissed
any notion of banditry as they fought as veteran campaigners rather than
low life opportunists.
Baladan loosed his crossbow at the
black clad leader hoping to shoot him whilst he was unprepared but as
he released his trigger he was forcefully jolted by Marrick who pushed
passed him shouting “Move! Move! Move!” and wedging him against the door
frame causing his bolt to fly wild and high slicing the air above the
Bandit Leaders head. Ahead Uthred screamed and dropped as the Bandit
Leader’s mace smashed into his head with only his helmet saving him as
he fell stunned to the floor.
Merrick stepped past Baladan and through the doorway smiling at the bandits his eyes as cold as ice.
“Knock knock…” he said to the group
who were poised over the fallen Uthred and stunned with Merrick’s
arrival as they registered the giant blunderbuss in his hand. Merrick
pulled the trigger and the walkway was filled with noise, flame and
smoke as the blunderbuss delivered its deadly payload. The bandits,
tightly grouped as over Uthred were thrown like ragdolls across the
walkway. Merrick pulled his swords and ran forward to cover the fallen
Uthred behind him Shannow and Red Ryak followed as well as the rest of
the Thirteen. The bandits were not alone and others were climbing from
the fighting pit where they had been looting before Uthred’s unexpected
arrival.
Shannow, guns drawn was putting shot after shot into the advancing bandits.
“Do I hate them, O Lord, that
hate thee? Am I not grieved by those that rise up against thee? I hate
them with a perfect hatred. I count them mine enemies.”
The battle became a tight affair as
the walkway let only three to four warriors fight in a line at any one
place and the chaotic melee made targeting the enemy with missile fire
difficult at best. The Thirteen that had crashed into the Bandits had
used their surprise well to drive over the falling Uthred and present a
wall of spears and shields tightly locked against their foes however the
Bandits armed with curved and wicked scimitars in both hands had
recovered and knowing that spearman will never win against swordsmen
were fighting with increasing effectiveness against the shield wall of
the Thirteen. Baladan behind the shield wall and rapidly reloading his
crossbow peered ahead but could see nothing of the Bandit Leader who had
disappeared in the smoke of Merrick’s blunderbuss shot.
Shannow also stood behind the
shield wall pushing a man here and shouting at a man there to organize
the shield wall of the Thirteen. So intent was he in doing so he did not
see the the bandit who has high above the walkway on a balcony
overlooking the battle below. Baladan seeing the bandit shouted word to
Shannow but it was too late. The bandit, either brave to a point of
recklessness or possibly insane drew his swords and leapt from the
balcony high above arms spread wide as if diving into the sea. Tumbling
as he fell he rolled off the wall and at great speed landed on Shannow
who crumpled to the floor, dazed and unarmed as his guns flew from his
hands. Recovering his senses Baladan pulled his torture dagger and began
to hack at the back of the acrobatic bandit driving him away from the
fallen Shannow.
Uthred was back on his feet and
could be heard screaming Northern insults and he fought in the shield
wall. Behind him Culwych the priest had joined the battle laying around
him with his giant hammer and shouting Psalms of Sigmar adding yet more
noise to the din battle.
Suddenly a voice rang out from behind the bandits.
“PARLEY!”
The fight continued as men unsure of the change of events continued to attack each other.
Again “PARLEY!”. This time the
owner of the voice pushed through the bandits and faced the Thirteen. It
was the black masked Bandit Leader and he held his weapons by his side
to show he meant no harm. Behind him the other bandits closed in.
Shannow had recovered his senses
and was back on his feet whilst the bandit acrobat was still on the
floor where Baladan held a wicked dagger to his throat.
Shannow pushed through the shield wall and faced the Bandit Leader.
“Good will come to those who are generous and lend freely, who conduct their affairs with justice. Speak your words of Parley.”
The Bandit Leader, though young appeared confident in himself and smiled wryly at Shannow.
“A man of the book huh? Never taken
to it myself though I have no quarrel with those that do. Would you
mind awfully if you let go of my friend there, I get quite upset when
anyone puts a dagger to my friends throat.”
Shannow motioned to Baladan who released the tumbler and pushed him through the shield wall and back to his friends.
“He is free, now speak your Parley Bandit. I have no time for games.”
“Nor I, though I do feel myself
aggrieved in this situation. Myself and my friends here were minding our
own business, merely looking for items of historic interest when your
men attacked us and we merely defended ourselves. However, as we are
peaceful men we forgive you for your unprovoked attack and in offer of
Parely call for peace and in return will not bar your path through this
place.”
Shannow grinned.
“For Historians, you appear to be light on scientific equipment and ill dressed for the role but I accept your Parley for now.”
The Bandit Leader smiled “That is
good for our quarrel is for another day. Today we have more pressing
matters.” He motioned Shannow towards a nearby window and pointed
outside towards some nearby ruins.
Shambling figures could be seen
moving towards the Amphitheater, rotten corpses bloated and grotesque
but still walking and many in number. Behind them strode a tall pale
human who though dressed in heavy armor moved gracefully and who
resonated fear itself.
“Servants of the Unlife..” Shannow cursed and spat on the ground to ward away evil.
“Indeed. We have encountered them before and if we continue to fight then we in turn will become on of his creations.”
“Agreed.”
“Let us move on and fight another day?”
“Yes. Though I head to the Temple of Sigmar and as long as you do not stand in my path I will have no quarrel with you.”
“I will bear that in mind though I
hear that many artifacts of historic significance are to be found
there.” smiled the Bandit Leader.
“We shall have peace if you desire
but do not touch the Temple, it is for God and God alone and I will
bring vengeance those who defile his home.”
“We shall see!” the Bandit Leader finished and without another word walked away his Warband following in his wake
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