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Newsletter April 2001 |
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Newsletter April 2001 |
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Next meeting:
Saturday April 21th 2001, at St. Johns Church Hall, Norrie St., Drury, starting at 9a.m.
Games arranged:
Morning session: 9.30 am to 1.00pm
| David Kermode v Arthur Young | WH40K | 1500 points |
Afternoon session: 1.30pm to 5.00pm
| Arthur Young v Paul K | WH40k | 1500 points |
all others are involved in the big Game of Fantasy that Peter Colson has arranged. This game will last and is a titanic clash of Good vs Evil
Copy for the news letter needs to be to me by week before we meet .- Kevin
Battle Reports
Damien VS. Peter VS. Wade! …shaking leaves were all that marked his passage. Or maybe they shook from the wind, it was indistinguishable. Moulded leaves, rotting twigs, fallen berries. The detritus of the jungle floor, no footprints were left, nor a whisper on the wind to mark his footfalls. Suddenly he… Suddenly IT burst from the tree line and leaped into the river holding the jungle back. Not a splash, barely a ripple, marked his immersion in the dark waters. Soon after, two eyes emerged from the waterline, set in cold leathery skin. Cold, pitiless reptilian eyes. One blink. Two blinks, then a sudden eruption from the river as the little scouting lizard sprung into action again, a quiver strapped to it’s back, a small bow clenched tightly in clawed hands. Behind a rock the scout stooped, still as a photo, crest held back low, bow-string pulled taut. A serpentine his emanated from the little scout, and four more like he took up the menacing hiss, in their hiding places among bushes, rocks, and dips in the land. They waited…
CRASH!!! With a loud creak, and the startled cries of forest birds, an ancient and tall tree crashed down to the jungle floor, shaking the ground around it with the impact. The shaking continued long after the tree had fallen, as the monstrosity that felled it continued its advance through the jungle. The horns growing from above it’s eyebrows curved slightly, and wickedly pointed, a full four feet long, and many spikes and horns, thorns and blades upon it approaching near three feet, and just as sharp. Skin, toughened harder than leather, wrapped over huge, solid muscles, and studded with scales and plates of bone.
And around it, dodging the falling trees, avoiding the sharp horns of the immense creature, ran scores of solid-framed, towering lizards, bearing golden shields and curved scimitars or spiked clubs, and roaring with blood-curdling fury. Among these beasts, who themselves stood clearly head-and-shoulders above a man, and far stockier besides, towered mighty terrors easily twice the height of even the tallest man, bearing mighty axes with golden heads, and hafts that where simply the carven trunks of small trees. Relentlessly the reptilian hoard crashed through the forest…
Hissing low, and whispering agitatedly to each other the scouts waited. Over the field a large force of Orcs was drawing up, ready to give battle to the foul undead. Two chariots, maybe three… Large, dark skinned orcs in armour… Large, red balls of muscle and teeth, prodded forward by black-cloaked goblins… And against them shambled forth two units of skeletons, and a force of zombies. Flanking them were a group of dead knights, and a pack of wolves, howling at the moon Morrslieb… Steadily it marched through the forest. Four burly lizards holding aloft a skull-throne, upon which sits a large frog-like creature. Steadily it marched through the forest, as leaves and branches that venture too close to it burn away and disintegrate with an orange flash of flames, creating a path by which the personal guard could follow this bloated mage. As the mage and his bearers stepped out onto the field of battle in the onset of twilight, a massive bolt of lightning cracked down from the heavens and scored a scar deep in the now-blackened soil, announcing the arrival of the new force to the fight. The air crackled with tension as the three armies faced off.
The Black Orc warlord, sitting astride an angry boar of considerable size and odour, scowled at the lizardmen, and the undead shrank back from the dominant figure of the Slann mage… With a roar, the orcs launched a frenzied assault, with the black orcs, supported by a unit of night goblins, a mob of orc spearmen, and a chariot, rushed towards the lizardmen. The warboss turned his hard eyes to a vampire, and advanced slowly beside a crowd of gibbering, barely restrained squigs. Not far behind strode another mob of orcs, eager to get to grips with the rotting corpses and skeletons. The Slann responded to the rush of orcs, and absently croaked out a command to advance. If the green-skins want a fight, then by Sotek, they were getting a fight! The temple guard advanced alongside their lord, and the kroxigor and stegadon also. The tiny forms of the skinks swarmed and darted this way and that, readying themselves to unleash their arrows into the green-skin ranks. The Slann cast its large, watchful eyes across the battleground, and fell on the fell host of undeath, and realising the possible threat of the winged rats further afield, he called upon a mighty conflagration to sear the very wings and matted fur of the vampire bats. And all but one were slain, the foul sorceries of the undead unable to prevent the intricate power of the Slann’s invocations. Then, turning his attention once again to the Orcs, the Slann gestured towards the chariot, and sent a jet of intense flame toward the rattling contraption, and damaged it mildly. Not as effective as he wanted, but it was something to do none-the-less. The undead capitalised on the orcs charge towards the Lizardmen, and advanced on a much smaller force of Orcs than had previously been threatening them. Wights upon ghostly steeds, wolves, and the remaining vampire bat, all spread out to their left flank, intending on destroying the Orc archers and subsequently assaulting the rear of the orc lines. The main body shambled forward, creeping closer to the Orc hordes. As a necromancer called upon the vile power of death and enfeeblement, intent on cursing the goblin herders and their unruly beasts to rapid aging and death, the Slann croaked in defiance of such foul sorceries, and dispelled the gathering winds of death with little effort. It was then that the Vampire lord held out it’s hand, and a dark bolt of deathly energy leapt from it, smashed into the squig herd, killing the goblin prodders, and setting the squigs off bouncing in random directions, landing on and eating several orcs, zombies, wolves, and various other assorted treats quite palatable to the insane orange killers. The black orcs continued their charge, and crashed into the temple guard lines, but to no effect! The night goblins, orc spearmen, and a mob of orc archers, the initial impetus of their charge expended, resorted to petty animosity. The night goblins squabbled amongst themselves. The orc spearmen jeered at the goblins, shouting that ‘This is how it’s done’ as they charged towards a surprised unit of skinks. The orc arrer boys, however, got too irritated by the orc chariot blocking their ‘line ov site’ and fired at the chariot to teach it a lesson! The black orcs fought hard against the saurus temple guard, but the temple guard were every part a match for the brutal orcs, just as tough, brutal, vicious, ferocious, and determined as their counterparts, and then some! Neither side fought to any advantage. The orc spearmen struck out at the skinks, but only managed to fell one. In return, the vengeful skinks hewed two of the orcs with their golden daggers.
At this time the orc chariot charged towards the Stegadon, impacting with a respectable amount of force, but the real damage was done by the crew and boars, who pulled down all the skinks on board, including the shaman. However, the monstrous stegadon stood it’s ground, roaring in fury and desperation. The orc general charged towards a vampire thrall, and lashed out viciously in combat, striking and wounding the undead terror many times, and felling the foul beast. Unfortunately the unnerving presence of in excess of 20 skeletons got the better of the orc’s sense, and he turned and fled, only to have his boar stumble and falter, as the skeletons closed in around him and hacked him to pieces with rusty scythes and spears. The massive kroxigor sprinted towards the chariot battling the stegadon, as the Slann ordered his bearers to engage the black orcs. A unit of skinks crept closer to the night goblins, heralding the arrival of a fanatic that pulped three of the unfortunate skinks. As the kroxigor crashed into the chariot, their might axes cleaved through the wood and steel chassis as if it were water… the bodies of the crew proved even less resistant.
Once more a conflagration of intense flames was called up by the Slann, and the remaining vampire bat was enveloped in flames and destroyed, the charred corpse hurtling back toward the earth, shattering into a pile of ash on impact The Slann walked up to the black orcs, and as it approached their lines, a huge flaming sword burst from the palm of its hand! The combined horror of this monstrous mage with flaming sword, and the sheer resilience of the saurus guard, was just too much for the black orcs, and they broke and fled, and were cut down as they ran. The orc spearmen managed to cut down the remaining skinks in short order, and faced toward the remaining unit of skinks at full strength. The Undead continued their advance, the dire wolves charging headlong towards the orc arrer boys. Several of the wolves fell foul of the orcs arrows, and only two wolves made it into contact… none survived. The wight cavalry failed to make contact with the archers also, and plodded forward slowly. The goblin fanatic spun about and crashed into the remaining two skinks from the unit it had hit first time round, and the last two met their maker with help from the ol’ ball and chain, eep! The orc spearmen, obviously developing a taste for skink, charged the last five skinks, and slaughtered them! Mmmmmmmm, beefy! The night goblins, ahhhhhh, didn’t QUITE do as good. With an evil cackle the little buggers rushed towards the temple guard, and, upon closer inspection, noticed that the saurus were considerably taller up close, and those teeth look a heck of a lot sharper… and come to think of it, they sound angrier too…
Needless to say, the goblins decided NOT to stick around, and turned tail and legged it! The saurus pursued, but the Slann halted them. Because he was standing in the way. The Slann work in mysterious ways… Now free of the burden of a chariot to fight, the riderless stegadon headed back home. No doubt it would have its nose smacked by a rolled up newspaper for such disobedience. The temple guard and Slann continued their pursuit of the goblins, but these creatures have running away down to an art form, and out-distanced their pursuers. The kroxigor wheeled away from the wreckage of the chariot, and started to make for the undead lines, and the skinks… well, their corpses bled a little more. The Vampire lord and his bodyshields… bodyGUARD, sorry, of skeletons, charged towards the orc lines, along with the other skeleton units, and slaughtered the orc warriors that dared defy them, and saw of a chariot also. The wights got their act together, and screamed voicelessly as they met the orc arrer boys, and beat them back ruthlessly. The goblins continued to run, run, and run! Until the very final moment, they halted, a sufficient distance away from everyone, and pretended they were still a threat.
The battle, however, was inconclusive, as it ended before we had a chance to properly kill each other.
As it stood, Wade suffered badly from the horrendous deployment (he was stuck in the middle of the table, and damien skulked away at the very back of his corner, bravely letting us fight it out, while I deployed as close to both of them as I could). Although in my defence, he DID charge my main combat unit before I had a chance to do much of anything with them. At the end of the game, it was a mexican stand-off between Damien and myself (Peter), with Wade sitting back rallying the remnants of his army, wondering if it was such a good idea to charge the lizardmen with half his army… Well I suspect this was what he was thinking anyway, heheeeee.
The Adventures of Tuffgitt Badskaga!
GRIND! CLANK!
The sound of hydraulics and pistons working over time whined and screeched as the illustrious warboss Tuffgitt Badskaga pounded across the battlefield, almost indistinguishable to the dreadnought he was marching behind. He was in a foul mood. Very foul. It had all started out so good. All of it! The Orks advanced towards the beekees as they were supposed to, and the chaos beekees where busy blowing up the vindicator and pasting scout beekees. The warbikes were giving the marines a taste of the good old Dakka dakka dakka! And the boyz were sloggin it through cover to get to the beekees.
Why oh WHY did the evil beekees have to run off like that? Just up and teleported away without so much as a warning. Ooooooh he was gonna make them pay, oh yes. That ‘cypher’ twerp will soon be on the receiving end of Tuffgitt’s shiny POWER CLAW!!!
No time for that now, that’s tomorrow, or maybe next week, not today. Today we stomp the Dark Angels and them Midnight Marines. The Nob on the warbike had already engaged the ‘command squad’, and stomped a couple of the beekees already, and Fat Tony and his boyz were in position to attack the command squad too, while Fat Albert’s goffs were advancing on the terminators, ready to stomp ‘em good and proper like. And those silly beekees weren’t falling back as Tuffgitt and the dreddie advanced. Good, VERY good.
Unfortunately, those chaos beekees were gone, so the dark angels were turning their attention of Tuffgitt’s lads. Oh well, more for me, he thought. This thought cheered him up, as he charged towards a tactical squad of beekees, along with ‘Tiny’ the dreadnought. Good hack-slash work there! Not long after, all the beekees were dead!
Unfortunately, the goffs against the terminators ran like weedy little grots, and were quickly off the table. Bad happenings. Very bad. To remedy this, Tiny decided to deal with the terminators, AND their chaplain, in short order! Not to be out-done, Tuffgitt charged towards the other tactical beekee squad, and minced them right quick smart. It was about this time that Fat Tony’s boyz, and the nob from the warbike mob, managed to kill off the Beekee supreme kommander, and his best boyz, and rushed off towards the enemy guns. No-one ever claimed Tony was smart.
Things indeed now looked VERY grim, with only Tuffgitt and Tiny remaining. At this point Tuffgitt jumped out of the back-hatch in his Mega-armour and made good his escape (Nick and Paul wanted to see how long it would take to kill old Tuffgitt. He lasted a respectable length of time against MANY marine heavy weapons. This was after the game ended)
Peter Colson (Empire) Valiantly snatched defeat from the jaws of victory, conceding defeat to Damien Neems (Undead).
"Asche zu Asche, Staub zu Staub" the wizened old priest intoned solemnly as he blessed yet another corpse, another fallen hero, this day. How many, he didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, the Undead advance was slowed, that’s what they had set out to do…
"M’Lord" Till Lundberg urgently called the attention of the Grand Master
"Yes Till?"
"The force you’ve got us chasing are no more than an hour’s march off, M’Lord"
"Excellent Till. I trust you have your men at the ready?"
"Yes M’Lord, they’re just Nor’ East of them, we should be able to approach undetected, Sire. Plenty of cover"
"See to it then, we attack on three calls, understood?"
"As clear as an un-mudded lake, M’Lord, as clear as an un-mudded lake" Till replied with a smirk, and ducked back into the woods, disappearing almost instantaneously it seemed.
"Too cocky, that’s going to get him killed" Grand Master von Dorrick mused to himself as he approached his officers…
1… 2… 3 times the trumpet called, and the Empire troops surged into action. The Greatswords lead the advance in reply to the Undead, with detachments of Swordsmen and Halberdiers flanking it. The far left flank supported by Lord von Dorrick and his personal regiment of Knights of the White Wolf, whilst the far right was strengthened by a small unit of the famed Knights Panther.
The Undead crept ever closer to the Imperial lines, slowly.
"Heinreicht! Kristoff! Balthic! ENGAGE! Thiedric, take out those bats! Herschall, I want full magical protection, NOW!" the Grand Master bellowed, sending his army forward into action, as Heinreicht’s Greatswords, Kristoff’s Swordsmen, and Balthic’s Halberdiers plowed into the Undead line, causing horrendous casualties, and weakening the magical resolve they had.
"Schiesse!" von Dorrick cursed as he saw the Knights Panther falter and refuse to charge the vampire bats.
"M’Lord?"
"Yes Koenraad?"
"Those Wights are getting rather close now M’Lord" Koenraad, the senior knight of the Regiment informed the Gran Master. "What are your orders, M’Lord?"
The old Knight looked at Koenraad, rose in his stirrups, unsheathed his sword, and nonchalantly stated "Gott weiss ich will kein Engel sein"
"My thoughts exactly M’Lord" Koenraad responded, as they Knights of the White Wolf crashed into the Wight cavalry, and destroyed them utterly.
Near silently, Till crept through the woodlands. A mere 5foot tall, and lithe in stature; a shaggy pointed beard, reminding one of a goat-like appearance, covering most of his face; he was well suited to lurking in the dark forests.
He held his hand up in a fist, and within seconds 9 more men of similar description emerged from the undergrowth.
"Right men, keep it down, hush… Ulric’s Teeth, even a troll could here your racket… right, those mongrels over there could cause a bit of a mess if they get in behind our guys, on my signal bolt for the open, fan out, and pepper the mutts, right?"
The men nodded in comprehension, and after a wait of about half a minute, they dashed out of the woods and around behind the Dire Wolves, and unleashed shots from their long bows, taking the pack of rotting hounds down to about half their number.
"BLAST! Accursed rot!" Heinreicht swore as his broadsword clove through another two of the relentless skeletons with one stroke. "Has that cur Mann got his head up his arsch? We keep hacking them down, and those bloody witches keep raising more of them!"
"Sir, Balthic’s men are routing" a Greatsword shouted to Sergeant Heinreicht over the din of battle.
"What?!? These incompetent fools are turning it all to scheisse!" Heinreicht roared, before a skeleton took advantage of the distraction and impaled him through the armpit
"Company! Right face! CHARGE!" Lord von Dorrick shouted to his loyal knights as they thundered towards the zombies bringing up the rear of the undead army
"OATH!" Koenraad shouted as a force of skeletons dug their way out of the ground to oppose the knights.
"Where the hells did they come from?" A bewildered knight shouted as they continued their charge.
"Fick knows, doesn’t matter to me" Koenraad replied, as the knights crashed into the skeletons and quickly sent them back to wherever they came from, and followed through into the zombies.
Herschall Mann, wizard of the first battle discipline, of the College of Light, ran. He ran until his lungs burned and his veins pumped batery acid. And then he ran some more. What were they thinking? A single first-level battle wizard holding off TWO necromancers and a VAMPIRE?!? He was as close to useless, they won’t miss him much, surely. Now if he can get back to civilisation, he could prepare, warn others, maybe bring in someone of a higher echelon. Yes, I’m much more useful this way,he thought to himself as he ran with a near supernatural speed…
"STOP! Get back here you gutless curs, where are your gott-damned balls?!? RE-ENGAGE!"
The halberdiers halted. They weren’t going to run off because of the ghosts of men long dead.
Time to get stuck in.
Courage bolstered by the resolve of the Halberdiers, the Knights Panther charged into the flank of the Skeletons, as the Halberdiers engaged the front, and with the sudden surge of angered Empire soldiers, the sheer impact of the charge crushed scores of skeletons within the initial moments of the re-charge.
"What the f…" were the last words to leave Till Lundberg’s throat before he was gored to death by an unnaturally large, rotting bat. The rest of his hunters suffered similar fates not long after.
"Kristoff! We’re surrounded!" a frantic swordsman screamed as the regiment panicked and were rent asunder by the slavering jaws of the remaining Dire Wolves, the filthy talons of the vampire bats, and the spears of the skeletons to their front.
As the White Wolf Templar cut down 3 more zombies with his faithful family sword, he surveyed the battle and saw that the undead had been significantly delayed, and he refused to let yet more men fall in his service now that his task was completed. He had held the undead at bay for the count of six, a full hour, it was now time to withdraw…
Silently Koenraad stood with his head bowed as the old priest performed the death rites on another of the fallen soldiers.
"Asche zu asche, Staub zu staub"
Kevin Carberry (German) Vs Ken Snow (British) - This battle was the first test for my tournament army for the nationals. Kens Commandos where out in force but there was a new twist for this game parras. The parras turned up on turn 1 and did a really nice job of slowing my army down with an amazing holding action through the bobcage near the farm, but in the end they fell along with the rest of the commandos and the germans where victorious.
Kevin Carberry (German) Vs Arthur Young (American) in the second encounter of the day aruthur suffered from some bad luck and was rolled up into a tight ball behind the village in the middle of the battle field and crushed. lossing most of his infantry in one round of fire.
This newsletter is edited by Kevin Carberry so anything you would like included in the newsletter should be sent to me at 48 Beaumonts way, Manurewa, South Auckland. Phone 2670319, kevin@profax.co.nz
Robert "Dictator" Davies is the Club President so any queries, problems, issues or suggestions about the club should go to him at 14 Grebe Street, Manurewa. Phone 2670899.