Recently, I’ve been either tied up working on the armies, gaming, enjoying life and a huge creative endeavor. I do love posting the battle reports in a fun filled manor, but had NO idea how time consuming it would be.
Sadly, I’m behind on my battle reports AND painting and crafting! Here is the most recent battle, the first at a new local Hobby center. A new one opened up under 10 minutes from my pad! Amazing! Meltd0wn comics made a small (albeit nice) section for Warhammer and other games. So, checking out the local shops, I made my acquaintance with the chaps there and we agreed on a friendly and fun game of 1500 points!
Wanting to show some skill, I decided to bring a fun beastmen army. No huge strategy. No heavy hitting units. No absurd use of ambush, no nasty Wargors (seeing as I’ve gotten very good at putting together some nasty and loathsome generals), just a good old fashion ‘smash-their-teeth-and-trample-the-fleeing-cowards’ army.
Yup. Old fashioned.
Khazrak has very much become my favorite Beastman Lord. Cheap, nasty, leader of ambush and subterfuge, dirty, pus-oozing eye sockets…what’s not to love? For 270 points, he should fit into most ‘foot slogging’ beastmen armies with ease. The ‘dark mail’ will really make Warriors of Chaos and High Elf generals cry. QQ.
My opponent was playing High Elves. Honestly, this made me wince. Absurdly powerful cheap units, magic phases that could wipe units off the map, spear-men that beat the pants off any of my core units? yikes.
Without further adieu, I give you
THE RAZING OF VAUL’S HOPE
1500 point game. Beastmen vs. High Elves 9/24/10
Clever and wicked, Khazrak, the One Eyed Scourge of the wild is a name known to all who would live outside the realm of chaos. A name feared by any who would build and attempt to conquer nature and live in peace and civilizations. Spiteful as a tempest, venomous as a serpent, Khazrak strikes from the woods where men fear to tread and leaves nothing but charred ruins and mere scraps for the carrion.
Having cut through the dwarves of the Iron-side mountains, driving the cowardly survivors back to their ancestral hiding holes and dark places where they sing of their long lost deeds and failed glory, Khazrak looks to the East for further blood and gore.
Khazrak marches. Victories fill his army’s ranks, flesh fills beast bellies and malice drives his indomitable will forward. Inexorably forward, a vile tide swallowing all before the swarm of hooves and horns.
Some sounds and scents are so minute that only beasts can distinguish. Sharks taste blood in the water from many leagues, so too can Khazrak sense the call of battle and the allure of bloodshed. Heeding the wafting aroma of destruction and ruin, Khazrak One-eye grudgingly obeys.
Sending his fastest and least drunk scouts; the ungor raiders, his ranks of chariots the “face rollers” and even his trusted (albeit frenzied) lieutenant “Ribcrack” the gigantic Doombull, Khazrak hopes to add his weight in the coming war against order and peace, while still pushing his gains by hoof in the Eastern mountains.*further battle report*
Bereft of scouts, Khazrak is pleasantly surprised to find his marching forces come across a fabled remnant of avarice. The last of the pretentious High Elf colonies, “Vaul’s Hope” is a training ground for High Elves whom hope to test their mettle against unorganized hordes as well as claim the slight glory of guarding a once important High Elf colony that is just a shadow of it’s former glory…like all things elven. Shadows of hope, nothing but facades of glitter masking terrified and weak souls ripe for the slaughter.
Greedy for new enemies and ways to slake his army’s blood-thirst, Khazrak marshaled his infantry. Lacking scouts and raiders, he let his elite Bestigors feast on the weaker ungor spearmen till their numbers and pride were culled. The remains of the phalanx would now serve as screening infantry and new raiders to satiate the Warlord’s lust for surprises. The discarded spears and shields were lashed together to form a crude (and typical) chariot. In moments, Khazrak had new scouts and yet another ramshackle chariot. Now all he had to do was bait the High Elves out to do battle.
His one eye squinting with thoughts that were more instinct and bestial cunning than any machinations of free will, Khazrak prepared his army. Knowing the High Elves had more pride than brawn, they would inevitably march forward and put on a glorious show of martial finesse and parade to battle. Their legendary martial prowess gave him pause, he would not give them the chance to bring this to bare. He was determined that their pride would be their undoing.
As the shrill flutes of the elves filled the air, Khazrak knew that they were mustering for war. He watched as the archers exposed their delicate hides to the woods. He heard the nasal voice of the ‘eternal ones’ as their spearmen marched with some fool master. His eye focused on the prize; the cavalry.
The ‘Dragon Princes’ were once lords of the sky, calling on dragons as their mounts. Now, fallen from their lofty perches and forsaken by the dragons, the High Elves clutched at failed glories and adorned their mounts with ridiculous wings and gold. This was their hope. Even the lord of “Vaul’s Hope” rode in their ranks.They sought to ride him and his horde down like beasts, like vermin.
This was to be their last ride.
Swearing to the ruinous powers, Khazrak vowed this would be the last time the sun rises on “Vaul’s Hope”. He would see it razed to the ground. His armies would bathe in elf blood and feast on their marrow. He would see civilizations razed from the world.
In the friscalating sunset, the Elven host heard the sonorous moan of the Bray-Horn. Khazrak the One-eye and his army spewed forth from the once sacred woods.
Having little idea what to expect from the new High Elves, I was attempting to use a traditional army for Khazrak. Very little in the way of nasty surprises, just one shaman. I believed that the High Elves would shut down my magic phase, so I opted to only bring one Shaman to enhance my units and put a bit of threat into the elves.
With the aims at keeping the game relativly short, we rolled for terrain and agreed that we would limit the amount to D6+1 (instead of +4). Thus allowing for more marches and fights. Honestly, I saw this as a huge boon to the High Elves. More of a shooting ground for his limitless archers. (did I mention I detest high elves? ) and even his cavalry could ride me down. Things were going to be bleak.
(to best recollection)
- Lord: Mounted Prince, High Str sword (+1?) Nice armor save. 1+ or 2+ (with the dragon Princes)
- Heroes: lvl 2 mage. lore of heavens. Chain lighting (ouch) and ice shard blizzard. Howling sword? (caused fear) with the archers
- Some named Character with Halberd. All his wounds multiplied into D3. Not bad for an elf. with the Sear Guard.
- Archers x 19-20.
- Sea Guard x 14
- Repeater bolt thrower. (again, ouch)
- Tiranoc Chariot: *rant: this thing is 5-10 points more than Beastmen chariot and faster and ASF? Reasons to hate elves*
- Dragon Princes: x8. 2+ as. (yikes)
KHAZRAK’S HOOF SLOGGERS.
- Khazrak the One-eye
- Breggur the Rampant: lvl 2 Shaman. Lore of Beasts. AHW, Jagged dagger. (was very tempted for many limbed fiend to help with garnering power dice)* in large gor herd
- Graarthuug Stonehoof: Wargor: BSB. Heavy armor, Shield, HW, Gnarled Hide, Enchanted Shield, Iron curse Icon. Having a 1+ AS on your BSB is always a good idea & ward save vs warmachines. *in large gor herd.
- Gor Herd: 24 Full command. AHW.
- Gor Herd: 12 Gouge Horn & musician.
- Gor Herd: 12 Gouge Horn & musician. * in ambush*
- Ungor Raiders: 9 + musiciain.
- Ungor Raiders: 9 + Musician. *in ambush*
- Tuskagor Chariot
- Bestigor Herd. Full Command. Magic Banner: -1 ldr to all enemies in 6″.
- Watchtower. ordinary
- Fence. ordinary
- Forest. ordinary
- Hill. Anvil of Vaul. All attacks within 6″ are magical and flaming.
Deployment was very interesting. High Elves won the pick of the sides and took the side with the forest & fence. The Watch tower was mid field and anvil of vaul was on my side.
High Elves, from left to right: Repeater bolt thrower, behind a fence. Archers, in the woods. Sea Guard directly behind the watchtower. Dragon Princes on the far right flank.
Beastmen deployment: (left to right) Small gor herd. Larger Gor herd. Ungor Raiders, with the chariot behind them. On my right, right on the edge of the ‘anvil of vaul’ was Khazrak and his elite guard: Foe-scourge’
Luck was with the elves as the battle began. Not only did the nimble elves determine where they would fight, but they would start the battle. Biting his maw in attempts to contain his rage, Khazrak watched as his lines formed up. The elves may be more spry, but this Warlord would show the elves he has a few surprises in store for them.
THE BATTLE BEGINS!!
Flutes and snare drums were the score of the elves’ march. They marched swiftly and proud to defend their colony. Seeking the refuge of the woods, the elven archers quickly moved into the cover of the trees. From there they would unleash volley after volley of deadly arrows. In a gesture of pride that was viewed as cowardice, the Sea guard marched to take up position in their Watch tower. In war, both acts are just as fatal to a general, pride and cowardice can often begin the route of even the best of armies. From the tower, they would let loose volley after volley upon the surging masses. Despite their speed, these guards were not fast enough to march and shoot at the onrushing horde. They could only watch as Khazrak’s army poured around them, like ocean waves surrounds a lighthouse.
The height of High Elf pride and arrogance came in the swift gallop of the Dragon Princes. Determined to ride down this ‘foolish upstart of a beast’ the Prince of Vaul’s Hope rode to expel the horde’s leader from not only their lands, but from the sacred ‘ANVIL OF VAUL’, a symbol of the elves magical attunement to the land. Raising lance and lowering their golden visors, the Dragon Princes made their last charge into the screaming herd of Khazrak’s elite guard. They were now within reach of the herd.
The winds of magic were weak, and even the fickle nature of the heavens would not smile upon the elves on this day. Their magic attempts failed and even their vaunted archers failed to bring down more than one or two expendable beastmen.
Playing into Khazrak’s trap, the elves had strode to battle, seeking to end this once and for all. Khazrak held his hordes back through sheer strength of will. Numerous are the tales of the beastman that defied his will, their flesh decorated banners and filled their bellies, all a warning to any upstart would-be leader.
From the once pristine and gorgeous forests, a braying sharp horn sent it’s winding note to the battle. Ambush. Khazrak’s will led one of his units onto the field, directly behind the Elven war-machine. Perhaps scared from their beating and ‘instructions’ the second ambushing unit, the green and untested ungor raiders, were nowhere to be found. They were still searching through the forest.
Khazrak’s Gor Herds moved forward, drawing now into close range of the accursed elven archers. Lured on by the scent of fear and promise of blood, the beastmen cared nothing for their own saftey. Their thick and tough hides would protect them from most wounds that the archers could fire. Fury, gore and ruin: these were the promises that Khazrak made, these are what they would get, or die trying!
Moving in the shadow of the watchtower, the ungor raiders protected the vulnerable flank of their tougher and more numerous brethren. With un-heard of accuracy, the ungor archers fired at the elf chariot that had failed to charge before. Caught unaware by the volley from the shadows, the chariot took two wounds! Even it’s high armor save did nothing for it. Clearly, the ruinous powers smiled on the stubby raiders.
If fortune favored the ungors, Khazrak turned his gouged eye to it as he sought his own glory and bloodshed. The Dragon Princes and the High Elf lord had charged recklessly into the battle. They were naked, they were exposed. Not even the fine crafted armor of the elves would protect them from the primal fury of the Beastmen.
Khazrak had lured them into a trap. The Anvil of Vaul would provide the Bestigors’ axe’s with fire and scare most horses. The foul and filthy ‘Man-bane’ standard would shake the courage of even the fiercest of foe, even these weak willed elves would be shaken. Charged by wild beasts brandishing axes of fire, the vaunted Dragon Princes were fear-struck. (ie: 9 ldr, -1 ldr, they failed leadership and WS1) Despite the elves uncanny ability to strike first, they failed to inflict one wound on Khazrak or his horde. Even the Prince could not muster the courage to fend off the Chariot.
Slamming into the cavalry, the chariot trampled four unaware princes. Elves can sing songs about how they live gorgeous lives forever and it is a tragedy when that life is snuffed out, but in the end, a pig drawn cart, recklessly smashing them will end the millennium of pride and pretention. (note: oink oink)
Khazrak saw his chance. Not to be deprived of his own kills, He became a whirlwind of rage and dark iron. Elves were hacked from their mounts as the Bestigors followed their General’s example. In moments, the once legendary Dragon Princes were pulled down into the dirt and trampled by iron shod hooves and hewn asunder by rusted axes. Terrified by the route, the Prince ran for saftey, ran for home and left his comrades dead on the battlefield.
For generations their banners of silk and silver flew in the wind, for the last time, the wind caressed the elven symbol of might and royalty. Now they nothing but food for Khazrak’s horde.
The winds of magic felt the ensuing bloodshed, the beastmen were gifted with Wyssans’ wildform and felt their hides toughen to repel arrows and their sinew and muscle taunt and engorge. They were now pure beasts, ready to grind the elves into the ground.
Round two began with the elves looking desperate. Having lost over 1/3 their force in just moments, as well as witnessing their prince run in fear then be run over by marauding pig-draw chariots, the elves knew this was their turn. If they couldn’t turn the tide here, the battle and “Vaul’s Hope” was lost.
The chariot that attempted to lumber forward the previous round (yes, i had to lend tuskagors for his chariot… the metal model kept crumbling on him) rallied and charged head-long into the oncoming Gor Herd. Perhaps in heroic attempts to stall the horde, perhaps meant as yet another failed charge of glory.
Though their bows were true and merciless, the Elven Hero and sea-guard could not sit out the battle in the watchtower. Joining the Tiranoc chariot, they charged the Gor Herd side by side with their chariot.
The chariot, already weakened from the ungor shooting, failed to do much damage on it’s charge. (it rolled 1 for impact!!) Even the Elven Hero failed to utilize his lethal halberd. (one wound, rolled a 1 to multiply) Wyssan’s wildform had made these beasts a power to be reckoned with. In bestial rage, the gor herd struck back; the chariot was pulverized as beastmen spilled over it and hacked the crew apart. The spearmen fared just as poorly as they lost six of their ranks to the slavering beasts. Only by the courage and skill of their hero did they manage to stand their ground.
*note: the elven general and I were unclear about charges FROM towers/ keeps/ but we decided that he could make a line to the gor herd’s FRONT. The side was held by ungor raiders. Additionally, the Elven general did not charge both groups in unison, thinking he couldn’t. Since it was a friendly game, I let him get the charge….after he already concluded CC on his chariot*
Startled by the ambush, the elven archers in the woods reformed around their leader and turned to let loose a volley on the ambushing horde. Though they cut down numerous beastmen, so intent were the beasts on blood and gore, they did not manage to scare the survivors. Now, with their back to battle, there was little the mage could do to help the slaughter on the battle field.
Even the small contingent of beastmen rushing up the field at the bolt thrower, taking heroic casualties, could not be stopped. Now, seeing the archers’ back turned found a more ripe target….
Beastmen surged forward all across the battlefield.
From the once sacred woods, ungor raiders emerged at the rear of the elven army…but right infront of the archers.
Khazrak and his guard stampeded forward, seeking more blood.
The chariot ground inexorably ahead seeking to pulverize more elven flesh before the day was done.
Amidst the savage melee that raged in the center of battle, the elves fought for their lives. Winds of magic ,wrought with chaos and ruin, favored the beasts and bestowed upon them Wyssan’s wildform and ‘savage beast of horrors’. Seeing The Battle standard bearer holding the front rank, the Bray-Shaman bestowed his wild blessings on the Wargor, transforming him into a monster of unprecedented horrors. (savage beast: +3 attacks, + 3 str…on top of Wyssan’s +1 str…made for a str 8 monster with 7 attacks). Again, the elves’ delicate spears failed to puncture the enhanced hide of the beastmen (toughness 5!!) and they fell victim to the enraged Breggur. Lashing out with all the strength of a rabid Mastadon, Breggur felled no less than 5 elves himself! Seeing the carnage their wargor unleashed, the beastmen redoubled their fury and hacked apart every last elf. Even the hero could not stand before the myriad of blows and bites.
The elves center had been overrun.
Sensing the last moments of battle, every last beastmen hurled themselves forward to get their share of destruction. The decimated gors threw themselves at the archers’ rear, denying them the opportunity to stand and fire at the oncoming brutes. The gors took a two wounds from those able to react to their charge, but the fight was theirs. Close enough to feel the inspiring presence of the Battle Standard, the gors easily mustered the courage to unleash primal fury. After seconds of brutal hacking and gouging, over half the elves (20 totaled…down to 9) fell to their assault.
Even the ranged bolt thrower was stuck in battle with the two surviving ambushing gors.
The elves had no choice to flee. The mage lead the terror striken archers off the field, and away from the assaulting gors….right into the ungor raiders, losing two more in their rout.
Failing to flee to saftey, the elves managed to rally at the end of the field and turn to see the encroaching hordes. The day was lost, Vaul’s Hope was doomed.
In the rising light of Morrisleb, Khazrak raised his offerings to his ruinous gods. Only ash, smoke and scraps of civilization remained. The powers imbued his already indefatigable will and malice. His was the might to grind peoples into the dust, his was the power of ruin.