The Albion Adventures II, the scenario explained.

This is a nuts and bolts post about the scenario I ran for a bunch of my Oldhammer gaming buddies yesterday.

My intention with most of the Albion scenarios I construct is to take advantage of the player's knowledge of current affairs, politics, religion or some similarly explosive topic and give them every opportunity make jokes about it. The only thing the average British casual gamer loves more than satire is a bit of pun-fu! To that end the obvious choice going into a big game in May so close to the general election was to riff off the silly circus we know and love.

The general background revolved around the election day kerfuffle in a hotly contested constituency. The player's warbands had traveled there to make a bit of coin working as mercenaries ensuring things went 'smoothly' and the electorate voted 'wisely'. The electorate consisted of only one family, the local lighthouse keeper and his kin. This made Beacon Island something of a Rotten Borough, unfortunately all the candidates were thoroughly rotten too and weren't inclined to leave things to chance!

I set up the terrain to take advantage of one of the excellent tables on offer at our venue, the Wargames Foundry. As the Isle of Thanet (particularly the constituency of South Thanet) was such a focal point for the media coverage I set our game on Albion's 'Beacon Island'. The name Thanet likely comes from a Celtic origin meaning bright or fire island, indicating beacons were placed there to help ships.

In real life Thanet, and Essex in general, is at the centre of a new debate about cultural identity. If you know anything about British culture at all you will understand this makes it the perfect target for our irreverent sense of humour!

I met a girl called Janet, she was from the Isle of Thanet, when I mentioned social justice she said why can't we just ban it?

The rivers formed a natural island with a road and a bridge so I set up a polling station and a Slann-gate I had been working on. I made sure the warbands started a good three feet (as the crow flies) from their objective and besides the river I set up a wood, a secret patch of quicksand and a secret patch of magical mist to act as further barriers, so much so that the swift Elves ended up with at least four foot of table to negotiate.

The river was monster-haunted and one of the players nominated a character to be obsessed with slaying large beasties. Setting up possible opportunities like this is a great way of engaging players in other ways that needn't depend on the main objective. Slaying the river monster would be a personal victory. Each of the warbands was deployed close to each other to encourage interference with each other's plans.

I had had the players choose small warbands of 4-6 models in advance using a Facebook event to guide things along, and I made them all characters or at least 'personalities' with names, good wargear and a bit of background. It's much easier to marshall 10 players or more when each of them has only a small unit each and the greater survivability of minis in Warhammer 3e means they can easily last a day of wargaming.

I lined up the candidates...

Lord McCameron the Bastard
Sir Edward Hatband the Betrayer
Nicholas Haystacks the Disappointer
Lord Far Age the Mad Usurper
Lady Pike the Kingmaker

... and dealt out 'election promises' from a deck of treasure cards I borrowed from a board game. I interpreted rules for the items that suited W3e on the fly and the players had to pick a candidate to back, or risk holding out for more and losing the offer altogether. I would've rolled a 50/50 test for each offer whether to withdraw or deal another card but there were no gamblers on the day!

Once the treasure cards were all handed out and allocated each warband got a voter to look after, one of the unfortunate lighthouse keeper's family. Even young Timmy decided to vote and had used ashes from the hearth to simulate stubble!

I calculated that to occupy the players from 11am to 4pm (with a break for lunch and mini shopping) I would hit them with three enemies or obstacles each. How they negotiated the river with its fords, bridge, currents and monster would also play a part in how they progressed. I drew three imaginary lines around the polling booth objective which would trigger encounters when crossed. As each monster popped out it immediately got a topical pun name, I had a few prepared but pretty soon the players were doing it themselves of course!

We had Hatbands unfortunate brother, locked away after a betrayal. There was the Spectre of Northern Independence, the Ghost of True Socialism and the Shy Tory Zombies roused from their slumber. We had the Serpent of Temptation to Vote with your Wallet. There was even the Social Network Troll with its venomous bile! And many, many more...

Eventually, most of the voters made it in time to cast their vote. The halflings voter was sadly killed but one stood on the shoulders of the other and put on the voters clothes... you can guess the rest! That's GMing on the fly for the benefit of the game!

In case you were curious, the Slann-gate was just a cool piece of scenery I wanted to bring along and use and it offered an excuse to have the final round of monsters pop out close to the polling booth.

And the result? A bizarre Albion Independence Party/Democratic Liberals coalition.... it''ll never last, if only because all that yellow and purple is so harsh on the eye!

TL:DR summary. Set up your 'campaigners' about three feet from the polling booth objective and give them a vulnerable civilian voter to protect. Have the candidates offer some tempting wargear to win the campaigners loyalty. Start them close enough to each other to cause friction from the first turn. Hit them with an enemy every foot or so and offer them opportunities to win personal victories along the way. Let them vote and announce the result!

Thanks for stopping by!

The Battle of Baron Hasbor's Folly.

Heavy, rain-sodden, clouds scudded overhead and the wind was picking up as Lavender McDade and her two henchmen clattered on the door to the Casey Farm compound. Lavender hated to be away from the security of her stronghold at the gold mine but her men had failed to enslave these pathetic Gnomes once so she had no choice but to take charge. Baron Hasbor had grown more than a little unpredictable since his predecessor's unfortunate 'accident' and he must be given no cause to complain at the size of the gold shipments! Just as the Gnome's curses and imprecations were starting to annoy her and she had begun to consider which of her cruel spells she would use first, Lavender spied movement from the corner of her eye. Three burly mercenaries were approaching boldly up the path, all slashed sleeves and feathers with not a care in the world. 'Perhaps with any luck', she thought, 'they are looking for an employer who pays gold for breaking the spirit of a few Gnomes'.

It turned out that Miss McDade was quite correct, the burly thugs did indeed seek an employer that offered them gold in exchange for breaking things. They and several others of their ilk had been drawn to these borderlands in the wake of the Baron Coleco's untimely death as rumour had it that there would be plenty of glory and loot for canny young fellows with a quick blade, such as they.

The fight at the Casey Farm would eventually attract the attention of some marauding Marsh Goblins and a Skaven death squad who entered the employ of Lavender and thereby the Baron Hasbor, as well as a Dwarf stealth insertion team sent to offer assistance to any fair folk who might come under attack in these unpredictable times that joined the Gnomes.

Casey Farm, under attack.

Though the Dwarfs and Gnome put up a mighty struggle, felling the thugs and badly wounding Cabbage Jack one of Lavender's henchmen, The skirmish ended with the capture of Colonel Casey and all his sons thanks to the timely intervention of the Skaven. Before they were killed in return, the thugs had exceeded their brief after smashing down the door and struck Ma Casey a fatal blow, her loss and their subsequent enslavement were bitter blows for the Gnomes to bear.

Later that week, the situation had deteriorated badly for the simple folk of the border barony. A stream of refugees was pouring south towards the Moot and the hope of safety from marauders and brigands. Baron Hasbor was desperate to give a show of strength and demonstrate he was in charge to stop his newly won population haemmorhaging away but instead of defeating the bandits he simply hired as many as he could to his cause and sent them against the refugees with orders to turn them back. Needless to say the operation swiftly became a massacre with rampant looting and pillaging the least of the people's problems.

The column of misery, Gnomes, Men and Dwarfs all suffering together.

Nevertheless, leaders began to emerge from the chaos. A doughty Dwarf Trollslayer held back Chief Zog Sekswackz and his tribe of Marsh Goblins almost single handed, though he suffered grievous wounds in the process. A brave poacher, Robin, overcame his nerves to slay a bird-headed sorcerer of Chaos from the warband of Darv the Wrathful earning him the title 'Brave Sir Robin' from his comrades. Members of the Dwarf stealth team (who cannot be named for their own safety) managed to engineer the escape of many refugees that would otherwise have been slaughtered by the troops of Throt the Unclean, an infamous Skaven warlord.

Once it was clear that there was to be no escape from Baron Hasbor's madness and his villainous army, those with good in their hearts and a sturdy sword-arm banded together for one last effort to survive in the face of destruction. The fair Esmerelda, princess of the Wood Elves, emerged from her arboreal home to unite the survivors and offer hope. Colonel Casey and his sons escaped their chains to lead a band of their folk in battle. The Trollslayer recovered just enough to go forth and seek an honourable doom. Brave Sir Robin took command of the menfolk and inspired a valiant flame in their breast.

The Good Alliance stands firm and prepares to hold the line!

From the north the enemy came, first Chief Zog and his Marsh Goblin tribe, this time accompanied by a monstrous War-Tortoise under the command of his brother-in-law Kilgore Turtlewackz. Then, Darv the Wrathful, he who had garnered much glory and a something of a reputation for merciless butchery. Skulking in the rear was the army of Throt the Unclean, who had somehow managed to convince the mentally deteriorating Baron Hasbor to hold the Skaven in 'reserve'. The Baron himself led the throng, mounted on his mutant Dragonhorse and guarded by his personal household troops.

The Baron gives the order to advance, unaware his troops are disloyal scum.

The battle that followed was a legend in the making. The treacherous Throt wasted no time in attacking his erstwhile employer from behind, slaying the Baron as well as Beau Weasel and Cabbage Jack. The fate of Lavender is unclear, certainly the Skaven hoped to eliminate her as well but rumours of her escape refuse to die. The Baron's Ogre bodyguards, Lump and Klug, were both slain in battle by the Good Alliance while his household Beastmen regiment declared their new loyalty to Throt. Colonel Casey gave his life fighting the mighty War-Tortoise and buying time for the Good right flank to triumph against Darv the Wrathful's warband. A unit of rag-tag knights that had served formerly under the Baron Coleco had come out of hiding to join the fray and despite the discovery of a traitor in their ranks mid-battle they recovered to crush the Chaos Knights of Darv the Wrathful, contributing to his defeat.

Though many brave souls had given their lives to oppose Baron Hasbor the battle went better than many in the Good Alliance had dared hope. Many Elves had died including the beautiful Esmerelda, even Woody the Treeman had perished. Though Colonel Casey was dead, his sons lived on to continue the fight for freedom. Though the Marsh Goblins had broken a pike phalanx the collapse of Darv's warband and Throt's treachery had left the evil army in no position to capitalise on any local success.

The situation now in the borderlands is fragile. Skaven agents have moved fast and claimed the Baron's keep. Bandits and brigands still have free reign over a lawless land. The good folk still cry out for liberty, though they have their lives at the very least as a result of this day.

'So, we have a deal then?'

The hooded sorceress narrowed her eyes as she asked the question.

'You have a gold mine all to yourself? Nobody else knows where it is now there is no Baron?' Came questions in reply.

'Nobody.' The sorceress replied firmly. 'Just little old me'. She continued, her tone playful now.

'Then we have a deal. My troops are yours to command.'

Lavender smiled, temporarily satisfied. Revenge was going to be so very sweet, and so very cold.

Thanks to all those who made the tremendous effort to take part, it was great gaming with you! There are many small tales that have gone untold, like the curious, wide-eyed daemon who escaped his binding and roamed the land for a short time before dying at the hands of the power-hungry Skaven or the fearless Zoat that fought in the downfall of Darv the Wrathful, or Darv himself and his brutally efficient murder of a Dwarf vanguard in the refugee column scenario. You just had to be there to get it all!

Thanks for stopping by!

Foundry game on the 5th of April: Intro fluff and venue details.

All set for the 5th?

'Gnome on the Range' is the special 'Warlord Paul presents...' game that Wargames Foundry have very kindly agreed to host on the 5th of April 2014. The intro fluff is written below and I will go over some details at the end of the post.

Gnome on the Range.

For years the Gnomish Casey family has lived peacefully on their cabbage farm in the remote borderlands between Stirland and Sylvania. This area is far from the civilised, urban hubs of the Empire and both tax collectors and militia are a rare sight indeed for the Gnomes who, led by their patriarch Colonel Casey, have always looked to their own defence in the (thankfully rare) times of strife.

The Colonel in action.

Usually when problems arise it amounts to no more than a few gnome-zombies shambling out of Sylvania but now, their old liege-lord Baron Coleco lies dead having been ousted by the ambitious Baron Hasbor who is building an army of renegades, mercenaries and ne’er-do-wells for purposes unknown. The usually peaceful borderlands are in uproar with troop movements, raids and skirmishes becoming more common by the day.

Gnome-zombies.

Worse still for the worried Gnomes, the infamous Sorceress Lavender McDade, along with her loathsome henchmen Cabbage Jack and Beau Weasel, have been sent to manage one of Baron Hasbor’s gold mines which happens to be very close indeed to the Casey’s cabbage farm. McDade has been told to increase the output of the gold mine by any and all means necessary and she means to enslave everyone nearby and put them to work, including the unfortunate Casey family!

“But Pa! We can better serve the Baron by feeding his troops with our fine cabbages, why does he not realise this and simply tithe us thus?”

“In the months ahead they will understand they cannot eat gold, but until then they will act only with greed and hate. Such is the economy of Chaos my son!”

YOU must decide the fate of Colonel Casey and his sons, Xavier, Bunnybees and Otis as well as that of the whole region by leading your forces in battle!

So, then, I'm planning to fit in three games in a sort of 'scenario pack' style that escalate from a small fight to a skirmish and then a larger battle in the afternoon. For those of you that have not been to the Foundry before, here is the address and contact details.

Foundry Miniatures Ltd
24-34 St Marks Street,
Nottingham, NG3 1DE,
United Kingdom.

Tel. 0115 841 3000

Foundry's website.

Foundry's FB page.

There is limited onsite parking sometimes available for those bringing lots of stuff but that would need to be prearranged. If parking on St Mark's street it is recommended that you do not leave anything on display in your car. There are parking spaces at the back of the Foundry but a cheeky private company sometimes dishes out tickets even though the land is owned by Foundry. These tickets are not legal in any way but may lead to annoying telephone conversations with grasping scumbags. I've never had any issues but I believe in covering all bases, forewarned is forearmed as they say.

Anyone planning to attend can PM me on FB or email me for my mobile number.

The first game will be small and you will likely have one or two models each. It should last around half an hour. The second game will be be an attack on a refugee column and you will have a warband of 15-20 models each, this will be 90 minutes long or so and take us to lunch (rolls and snacks are sold onsite and nearby). If anyone has any baggage animals or carts they can bring along to enhance the look of this scenario it would be greatly appreciated. In the afternoon we will have a bash at a slightly larger battle based on the narrative established in the preceding games. This should (roughly) run between 1300 and 1600 I anticipate.

Having an aide memoire on a single sheet of paper is a great way to speed things up when playing Warhammer. Any stat-lines and rules for your favourite characters and units are handy if available to hand quickly. It is a good idea to have spare paper and a pen on the day so you can make a note of spells and such like, as well as a tape measure and some dice.

Nobody knows exactly whats going to happen in games like these so I work hard to avoid being prescriptive, there will no doubt be a fair bit of improvisation and ad-libbing on the day so prepare for a flexible and fun experience!

Any questions?

Thanks for stopping by!

Fayana and the Dance of Death.

I'm often accused of many things (selective hearing, flippancy and hiding in the shed whenever there is DIY to be done to name but a few) but these foul slanders are obviously from people too feeble-minded and feckless to recognise a great mind at work. Perhaps a fairer criticism would be that I tend to get my version of events in first. First and hard. This time however, I have been stoically holding back to allow somebody else the chance to tell their story through the medium of game, after all, preaching about the wonders of narrative gaming won't do me any good if I keep it all to myself!

So without further ado, I would like to usher you along to my good friend and gaming partner Robotforaday's (AKA Lenihan) blog so that you can read the tale of Nobridge and it's brave defenders. No doubt you will marvel incredulously as the tale unfolds!

Click here to travel through spacetime to 'Where the Sea Pours Out'.

Mum-Ho-Thep's Revenge: AKA The Wrath of Khorne. Part Two.

Missed Part One?

As we left the action, Mum-Ho-Thep's innumerable horde was grinding down the Chaos invaders and depriving them of momentum. Ulther Deathfist has concentrated his best troops on the right however and if he can smash through the Lichemaster's force and achieve his secret mission to retrieve the 'Hatemaker', his victory will be assured.

Read on...

The Chaos chariot destroys it's Undead counterpart but is left badly damaged as a result. The Deathfist's tactic of meeting fire with fire and going like for like may work against mere mortals but it could prove his undoing here, against the forces of Undeath.

The second regiment of Dark Elf crossbows is overwhelmed by Kraust's Death Riders. Though they have caused extensive casualties to the Undead the Elven defence on the river bank is shattered and the position becomes untenable. The heavy cavalry has no choice but to ride out and meet it's fate. It does so magnificently and without hesitation!

The Chaos Warriors under Norse stand, fight and die without complaint. They are holding the line with a legendary display of warrior prowess, but their flank is weak due to the undisciplined Thugs struggling to form up effectively in the dense underbrush.

The Deathfist sends in his Undead auxiliaries to weaken the enemy, out of contempt he declines the chance to outflank his foe preferring instead to meet them head on. The Chaos Warlord roars his hatred at the Lichemaster's army from the crest of the hill but they care not.

As the Dark Elf position collapses, the heavy cavalry ride out over a carpet of scorpions while the mages try to desperately turn back the tide of Undead with their spells. One raises a zone of life which is particularly effective, sundering Kraust's second wave, can the Slaaneshites snatch victory from the very jaws of defeat?

Mum-Ho-Thep surveys the battlefield and is pleased though he is unaware of how close the forces of Chaos are to their objective, the Hatemaker weapon. His catapults and archers rain death on the foe though some skeletons crumble as the Ziggurat edges into the zone of life spell maintained by the Elven mage.

Just as hope flares in the breasts of the Chaos troops due to the efforts of the Dark Elves, the Chaos Warriors under Norse begin to crumble as their limits are reached. The terrible sight of what faces them is simply too much for men born of women to bear.

The army of Mum-Ho-Thep's confidence is at a peak, but all the while a small unit of Ulther Deathfist's Chaos Warriors has been stealthily creeping towards the storehouses of Locusti. Having captured an Alderman of the town council and interrogated him, Ulther now knows the exact location of the Hatemaker. If his men can just overcome the skeleton archers and the Monks victory will go to Chaos!

Girding their loins, the Chaos Warriors charge in knowing that victory or defeat hangs in the balance.

The Deathfist loses himself in the glory of slaughter, heedless of his numberless foes he is at the forefront of battle and laughs with joy.

Though they sell their lives dearly, the army of Ulther gradually shrinks into an ever smaller line and a dangerous gap begins to open up.

The Chaos infiltration unit easily slaughter the skeleton archers, though their foe simply will not break. Instability begins to overwhelm the Undead however as the magic knitting them together starts to unravel.

The fanatical guards are still defending the War Altar successfully but are dying one by one, the magic binding the Carrion remains strong. 

The Zombie Dragon and the living monsters pursue the routing Chaos Warriors, a great gap has opened up in the Chaos line but the Fimir are guarding against a Dark Elf victory over the scorpion swarm and are thus preventing Mum-Ho-Thep's centre from exploiting the weakness.

Kraust's Ethereals and Death Riders are defiantly trying to kill one Dark Elf mage while avoiding the life-zone spell of the other but the magic keeping them bound to this plane is weakening fast.

Spared the attentions of the Undead by the magical sanctuary the Dark Elf heavy cavalry are systematically destroying the carpet of scorpions and start looking to the next fight against the Fimir's worm-things already.

The arrogance of the Dark Elves is to prove their undoing however! They are identified as a serious threat and subjected to a barrage of missiles, magic and assaults. They are crushed under the attentions of all the Undead horde can throw at them, a handful of exhausted scorpions remain but decide to burrow under the ground rather than fight on.

The Fimir have worked themselves up into a frenzy but now there is virtually no enemy left for them to face! Still, their loyalty will be richly rewarded.

The river bank, clear of Elves at last. As the last falls he utters a sigh of bittersweet regret.

In the centre, the collapse of Norse's position seems inevitable. A strange lethargy overtakes the Zombie Dragon and the pursuit falters, perhaps because Mum-Ho-Thep wishes to recruit some of his former enemies as subjects?

Finally, the skeleton archers are destroyed, the Chaos infiltrators can move on the the storeroom defended by the Monks of Maisontaal. The defenders remain unaware of the importance of the coming struggle! Please note the position of the Undead Giant Cyclops approaching the town's storeroom walls....

Ulther's men have been streaming away from battle in one's and two's as their units are defeated by the fearsome Undead. Even the Deathfist himself gets swept up in the panic at one stage, a black day indeed. They rally though, for one last stand on the hill. Can they buy enough time to allow the infiltrators to be successful?

The Cyclops elects to clamber up the storeroom walls and assault the Chaos infiltration team, this could spell disaster for the Deathfist. The worthy and honourable GM declares that the Giant has retained a racial memory of falling over and must roll a 2+ to safely reach his target. Almost inevitably, a 1 appears on the dice and the giant tumbles back from the climb to be destroyed on the ground below. The above picture has been dramatised for effect.

The infiltrators smash into the Monks but cannot oust them from their defended position and are hurled back, they must try again.

Turning aside from it's fruitless job of smashing the Lichemaster's army, Ulther's Chaos Dwarf mortar hammers the War-Tortoise and kills most of it's Goblin crew. The beast runs amok and attacks it's own Marsh Goblin allies in the flank!

Once more into the breach, this time many Monks are slain for the loss of only one Warrior and the result is a draw. So close now! The Chaos troops can feel the swelling anger of the Hatemaker as it's awareness expands due to it's seemingly imminent retrieval.

The surviving troops under Norse are surrounded and cut off, whatever the outcome this day they have fought their last battle for Khorne.

It is as if Khorne withdraws his support for his failing troops, the last of the cultists fall and the Carrion take a giant poo in the blood cauldron of the War Altar. A moan of despair runs through the Khornate ranks and some turn their backs to the enemy as they flee.

The tragedy unfolds further as the Lichemaster and his servants run down the Deathfist himself, he is ignominiously trampled beneath the feet of the Undead infantry as they march on.

After a last, desperate attempt to overcome the Monks, the exhausted infiltrators are themselves beaten and die to a man in the service of their Lord. It is almost as if Khorne's own dejected hand descends from above and sweeps them from the field of battle in disgust.

Mum-Ho-Thep is well pleased with his loyal servants and lets out a victorious roar that echoes in the Realm of Chaos itself!

And lo! The invaders are hurled back from whence they came. The Empire of Mum-Ho-Thep remains strong and ready to meet any challenger...

In truth, a military victory was never really on the cards for Chaos, though they fought tenaciously and bravely. Their mission was their best hope but they did not find out the location of the Hatemaker until turn two was almost done and found it hard to redeploy. I was trying for a fine balance but ultimately the story that unfolded became a crushing defeat for Khorne, although everyone had lot's of fun I will definitely put some lessons to good use next time I run a big game. I have to remember that after 20 years there are few people who can crunch numbers, weigh up opponents and execute sound tactical manouevres in third edition. This led to one or two blunders on both sides that cost the numerically superior Undead nothing and the smaller, elite Chaos army everything. I think I will write a few 'Tactica' style posts soon to encourage discussion of (previously held in contempt) tactics that can help others (and myself) with running larger games of unequal points.

Mum-Ho-Thep had returned to his sarcophagus and left the rewarding of his loyal subjects to his Grand Vizier. The Fimir were gifted scrolls of Daemon-summoning spells and some knowledge from the future about a bridge being built on their ancestral lands leading to hardship for the tribe. Baron Kraust had his expulsion from the Cabal of Necromancers rescinded and his acolytes were given books of deathly lore. The Lichemaster was rewarded with slaves to drain, in order to satiate his thirst for ever-lasting life. The other Necromancers were allowed to drink of Mum-Ho-Thep's scrying pool and receive visions of their destiny. The little town of Locusti was made exempt from this cycle's tithe which was the cause of much celebration amongst the inhabitants.

In all the chaos, nobody noticed the twisted form detach from the shadows and enter the ruined storeroom.

The cloaked figure was a recluse, an exile. Banished from Locusti because of the gifts of the Gods he was forced to live apart in a cave on the promontory. Unnoticed, he slipped into the town and stole thorugh to the resting place of the weapon, Hatemaker! He could feel the presence in his mind as he drew close, when he reached out a malformed hand to take the wrapped package an agony exploded in his brain. It pushed him into a corner of his own head and ordered him to be still. The twisted shadow loped off through the night. First Khorne would punish his servant, Ulther, for failing him, then the Hatemaker would be presented to him as Khorne had always intended so that the Deathfist might fulfil his destiny at last!

Thanks for stopping by!

Mum-Ho-Thep's Revenge: AKA The Wrath of Khorne. Part One.

Blog-Con 2013 was a huge success! It was great to take in the sights and meet some fellow bloggers for the first time, though to be honest most of my time was taken up running my big game! It may go a little against the pathetic aesthetic that I am so fond of but every now and then, it really is good to see a big old table heaving under the burden of regiment after regiment of classic lead. Many thanks go to Orlygg, Thantsants, Harry Norse, Lenihan/Robotforaday Golgfag and Nik, who brought their lovely painted miniatures collections along on the day.

Here then, is the tale of the battle that unfolded...

Read the introductory narratives here, here and here.

The simple town of Locusti, somewhere on the fringes of old Nehekara. The mighty alliance gathered by the Deathfist approaches just as the Floating Ziggurat of Mum-Ho-Thep glides into view with his army strung out on either side. The scene is set for an epic struggle.

Locusti is a hive of panicked activity as the Khorne army arrives, a small group of fanatical cultists pushes their War Altar up to the promontory so that all the enemy may gaze upon it and despair. Such is the potency of this symbol of Chaos, it bestows greatly enhanced courage on all Khorne worshipers that can see it.

The Floating Ziggurat of Doom, the source of Mum-Ho-Thep's power and the repository for many dangerous and arcane artifacts accumulated as tribute over the centuries.

Mum-Ho-Thep deploys his right flank, the legion of Baron Kraust (he has a new Phylactery of the Trick Back thankfully). A flock of carrion flow from a cavern in the side of the Ziggurat while Kraust's cavalry canter forward to engage Deathfist's Dark Elf allies.

Mum-Ho-Thep gave his left flank to the Lichemaster, who brought with him a truly terrifying horde of the Undead.

Mum-Ho-Thep's centre. Here he deployed his most faithful living subjects, the Fimir, the Marsh Goblins and their War-Tortoise and the host of Giant Snakes and Scorpions, as well as the awesome power of the Mummy regiment and the Zombie Dragon! Some skeleton infantry support these elite units.

From this angle of the centre you can see the Undead Dinosaurs, the Scorpion swarms, more Death Rider cavalry and more carrion. There are catapults and skeleton archers deployed on both the town walls and the Ziggurat.

Bizarrely, Slaanesh chose to send troops to support the Khornate Ulther Deathfist, probably just to annoy him. The horde of Dark Elves took the Chaos left flank and were later joined by a Giant.

Deathfist ordered a lieutenant to hold the centre and guard the War Altar. Will this huge formation of Chaos Warriors with all their raw combat power be a match for the horde of monstrosities that face them?

The War Altar, dedicated to Khorne with the blood of a thousand warriors. The Promontory overlooks the central pyramid of Locusti.

The host of Ulther Deathfist himself, he has saved the position of honour on the right for his own. He desires a mighty artifact that lies within Locusti's walls, a Daemon Weapon of fabled power. It is said that whomsoever bears the blade is the equal of twenty Chaos Warriors. The weapon, Hatemaker, has been gathered into a store room in Locusti as a future tribute to Mum-Ho-Thep. Neither side know the weapon's location, in fact Mum-Ho-Thep's army doesn't even know of it's existence or it's importance!

Ever one to fight fire with fire, the Deathfist has brought along some Undead auxiliaries of his own.

Battle is joined! Mum-Ho-Thep and his Grand Vizier concern themselves only with strategy, they place tactical command of the battle in the hands of the Baron Kraust. He pauses to consider his orders, sensing his troops overall superiority in weight of numbers he simply cries; "Advance!"

The Slaaneshi Elves take a perverse delight in supporting the Khorne faction, the pain it causes them is a form of pleasure to these degenerate hedonists. In the distance, the Ziggurat is an imposing sight.

The Lichemaster advances towards the town but the Deathfist moves to outflank him and forces him to rethink.

The Giant, Mick, is barely back (from taking a pee while the earlier scrying of the Dark Elves took place) when he has to face the devastating charge of a large company of Death Riders. He has heard the tales of his cousin's demise on the Isle of Albion at the hands of the Undead and has had a fear of tiny skeletons ever since. He turns tail and runs in a most ignominious fashion.

The first wave of Undead batter the defenses of the Dark Elves who find themselves facing the swiftest of the enemy units.

Out on Mum-Ho-Thep's left, the Lichemaster begins to realise the blunder he has made and the threat the Deathfist poses to his force. He redeploys in good time to confront the Khorne Champion.

The Deathfist's lieutenant, known simply as 'Norse', gets his elite troops across the river in good order. they will now form a thin, red line against the storm of monsters and magic that is heading that way.

Mick flees from the field of battle, shrieking like an Elf-maid on her Hen Night. Despite heavy casualties, Mum-Ho-Thep's chariots are able to penetrate the Dark Elf line and rout a unit of crossbows. When the Mummy leading this attack had his chariot destroyed the ancient used the cunning wisdom of his advanced years and occupied a chariot that had lost it's crew to Elven blades. The sight of this dismayed the Slaaneshi commander who had never before seen the like!

Summoned from the mountains, a ravening Manticore drops from the clouds onto the Dark Elven heavy cavalry. Raising a mighty paw the beast swats three of the Cold One riders, almost from the saddle. Lo! The mindless creature had not unsheathed it's claws and was only playing it seems! (Note; triple ones on the to wound rolls captured in shot for posterity.) The favour is not reciprocated and the winged horror suffers a wound in return, shocked and hurt the monster flees.

All the while, the Baron's second wave of ethereals and Death Riders is positioning to overwhelm the beleaguered Dark Elves.

So powerful and numerous is Mum-Ho-Thep's ponderous centre, it's main problem is manouevring into position to do harm.

The Dark Elves have held the river bank for the time being and the Manticore takes flight, leaving the battlefield far behind.

In a bold move, a flock of Carrion swoops down upon the War Altar. They desperately try to desecrate the Khorne icon (presumably by pooping in the bowl of blood) to sow dismay in the mortal ranks but the unholy shrine is defended by fanatical cultists who will defend their Master's war engine to the death.

The Lichemaster has fully redeployed to face the Deathfist, this titanic struggle will surely be the key to victory for the Chaos Lord.

On a whim, the Lichemaster sends a unit of raving mad monks into the town...

Mum-Ho-Thep awakens! He rejoices to see his army pushing forward on all fronts, the Baron Kraust must be rewarded if he succeeds, as surely he must.

The Ziggurat hovers inexorably on, the Temple Array can extend the control of Mum-Ho-Thep over his Undead or attack the enemy more directly.

The Dark Elves are surrounded by the second wave and face an even sterner test than before.

Norse's detachment holds steady, for now.

Creeping ever closer, the Undead horrors and the living monsters can almost feel the pulsing heartbeats of their enemy now. The loyal Fimir secure the flank of this host.

As Ulther Deathfist seizes the high ground the Lichemaster launches an assault against his position. The banner of the Deathfist flies high in the still, Nehekaran air.

Chariots clash in an almost ritual dance as battle is joined on the far side of the town.

The catapults finally have a target as the enemy lies just within range at last, a lone Necromancer weaves his spells of control over Mum-Ho-Thep's troops from the walls of Locusti.

Will the outnumbered Khorne army be able to defeat enough of the enemy to seal a victory? Will Ulther's secret mission bring about success? Can the Carrion overwhelm the Altar guard and desecrate Khorne's engine? Find out in Part Two of Mum-Ho-Thep's Revenge: AKA The Wrath of Khorne!

Thanks for stopping by!