Battle #31: Tricksy
Vampires
[Game
situation: 6-turn pitched
battle against Lenny
DeMauro’s vampire count army
the Cult of Nod after the
Grinding Grumblers
challenged them for the top
spot on the board. Yes, this
one was for all the marbles!
Win and I would assume
Lenny’s spot at the
pinnacle, hurling him to the
bottom of the board; lose,
and I’m the one tumbling all
the way down. 2000 points
per army. The dwarves
brought two regiments of
Warriors (20 and 19), 15
Crossbow Dwarves, 10
Thunderers, 17 elite
Hammerers, 10 Slayers, 1
cannon, 2 bolt throwers, one
Runesmith, and the special
character Alrik Ranulfsson
serving as general.]
Log
entry:
“When a
dwarf of the stature of
Alrik Ranulfsson, Lord of
Karak Hirn, visits
Robinson’s Rock, exciting
things tend to happen. And
so it was when Alrik arrived
on this occasion. There were
public speeches and toasts
and much drinking and
dwarven revelry, of course.
But that was not all.
Fortunately for yours truly,
I was invited by our hold’s
fearless leader Buford
Bugman to attend the council
meeting at which Alrik spoke
his business and consulted
with our elders. Alrik
thanked our hold graciously
for its assistance in his
expedition to recover Silver
Pinnacle last year. Our
joint forces had won a great
victory against the vampire
counts, though in the end
the old mining stronghold
had not been recovered
[see battle log #22].
This year Alrik wished to
return to vampire country to
avenge yet another grudge
(there always seem to be
plenty of ‘em), and once
again asked us for
assistance. Though one or
two on the council voiced
caution, Buford made an
impassioned speech in favor
of Alrik’s mission — “An
unavenged grudge is a cancer
that eats away at the heart
of all dwarvenkind!” he
proclaimed — and soon orders
began to ring through our
hold for the mustering of
troops and preparation of
weapons and runes.
Like
with Alrik’s last
expedition, in this one the
best help we could provide
was to supplement Alrik’s
forces with the black powder
weaponry that he shunned in
his own hold as being
“newfangled.” So a cannon
and a unit of Thunderers
were made ready, together
with a large unit of
Warriors. We joined with the
troops of Karak Hirn and set
out immediately, with Alrik
leading the combined force
to the west. The objective:
the site of a legendary
battle in which an ancestor
of Alrik had been slain by a
vampire and his descendents
had sworn vengeance. Alrik
had heard that a vampiric
scion of the dwarf’s killer
still lurked in the area. We
would help make good on
Alrik’s sacred pledge.
When
our forces reached the
territory in question — a
place where half-bare trees
stood coldly in groups near
bleak hills — everyone could
feel the presence of the
undead from the way the skin
seemed to crawl beneath our
armor. Alrik deployed his
crossbows, a bolt thrower,
and the cannon on a large
hill with a commanding view
of the area but for a few
thick copses of woods. He
screened the left side of
the hill with a thin line of
fanatical Slayer dwarves
bound and determined to win
back honor for themselves in
battle. To the right of the
hill Alrik positioned most
of his forces, hoping to
overwhelm and crush any
opposition they faced. There
were two large units of
Warriors, the one from
Robinson’s Rock closest to
the hill; between the two
stood the Hammerers, Alrik’s
bodyguard, and Alrik
himself, carried aloft on
his runic shield by two
stout bearers. Further to
the right our Thunderers and
the last bolt thrower were
stationed to cover the
flank.
Before
long, as if by some dark
magic inherent to the cold
ground on which we stood,
the enemy forces began to
materialize before us,
advancing forward with the
creak of dry bones and the
macabre whispering of
ghosts. On the far left was
a large pack of undead dire
wolves led by a mounted
vampire thrall, along with a
flight of fell bats and a
small formation of Black
Knight cavalry. More toward
the middle stood (barely)
numerous zombies in a
regiment and then a unit of
skeletons. In the middle of
the field came a large mass
of ethereal specters, a
banshee, and some ghoulish
skirmishers. The only
enemies on the right side of
the field at all were four
leadbelcher ogre
mercenaries, each carrying a
cannon barrel in his large
arms. Back behind the lines
the dwarves could make out
two necromancers, and, dimly
through some intervening
trees, a Blood Dragon
vampire lord mounted on a
monstrous winged Nightmare.
Alrik fixed his gaze on that
vampire commander and swore
out loud that he would
settle his family’s grudge
on the field today.
The
dwarves began the engagement
by opening fire with their
artillery. A cannonball tore
through the black knight
formation destroying one of
them, and a bolt thrower,
with a fiery runic shot,
burned up some ghosts,
though the necromancers soon
managed to summon
replacements. Meanwhile the
undead foe surged forward.
Clearly the enemy’s strategy
was to sweep left (around
and through the Slayers) as
well as straight up the
middle and kill everything
we had on the hill, using
the ogre mercenaries to hold
off the main dwarven force
on the right. Though some of
the leftmost undead units
could move forward only
slowly (being distant from
their animating general),
the undead still looked to
have a significant advantage
in numbers where the battle
would be joined. Alrik
responded by jogging forward
with his Hammerers and
rightward Warrior regiment
as fast as possible toward
the ogres opposed to them,
while diverting the
Robinson’s Rock unit of
Warriors to the left to try
to help with the defense of
the hill. There was a narrow
passageway between the front
of the hill and a copse of
woods facing it through
which the Warriors could
march, so this is where they
aimed themselves. On the far
right the Thunderers and
remaining bolt thrower would
lay down supporting fire
against the ogres and any
other targets that presented
themselves, though the range
would likely be extreme.
And so
the battle unfolded. On the
left side of the hill things
quickly began to look rather
bleak for the dwarves. Fell
bats streaked through the
air toward our artillery,
and flying right up the
front of the hill and
landing in front of the
crossbow dwarves was the
terrifying Nightmare with
its vampire lord rider. Most
of the nearby dwarves
bravely stood their ground,
but the bolt thrower crew
panicked and fled. The
others fired away with
everything they could at the
dreadful creature – with
good effect. The cannon
unloaded a big barrel of
grapeshot right into its
flank, and the crossbows
sent a shower of deadly
bolts its way from
point-blank range. When the
firing ended, the monstrous
beast lay mangled on the
ground and its lord hurt.
But the wounded vampire,
dismounting from the wreck,
nevertheless charged right
into the cannon’s crew and
with terrible skill swiftly
slew most of them, while the
fell bats flew into the
flank of the crossbows,
attacking fiercely.
On the
right Alrik with the
Hammerers and Warriors
charged toward the ogres,
who unleashed a deadly
multi-barrel blast of their
own into the dwarves’ ranks.
Many a Hammerer died from
the fusillade, but the rest
held ranks and kept coming.
The ogres turned and fled,
running at top speed from
their grim pursuers. Alrik
ordered the Warriors to his
right to continue the
pursuit of the ogres while
he wheeled his Hammerers to
the left, hoping to aid the
rest of the dwarves in some
way.
The
Robinson’s Rock Warrior unit
had been heading left all
along, and soon found
themselves with plenty of
action in the middle of the
field. They charged into the
flank of a swarm of
advancing ghostly spirits,
and soon had their own flank
beset with skirmishing
ghouls charging out of the
central woods — and all the
while the evil banshee sang
her deadly song directly
into their midst! But our
dwarves are made of stern
stuff, and these did our
hold proud by keeping their
good discipline in the face
of all these supernatural
foes. Their weapons seemed
to have limited effect
against the ghosts to their
front, but they kept
pressing forward with
courage in their hearts and
this seemed to drive off the
evil spirits as much as
hammers and axes. The ghouls
could be hacked at more
easily, and the dwarves
facing them set to this task
with gusto, soon sending the
marauders fleeing back into
the woods, never to return
to the battle. The Warriors’
fight in the middle was
going well.
On the
left the battling heated up
to a fever pitch. The enemy
Black Knights had crashed
into the Slayer dwarves,
killing many on the initial
charge, but since then the
fanatical dwarves had been
fighting back hard, selling
their lives to delay the
undead advance. Already they
blocked the dire wolves in
addition to the Knights. On
the hill itself the crossbow
dwarves fought tenaciously
and well against the fell
bats that had charged their
flank. After surviving the
initial shock, the dwarves
had steadily gained the
advantage, and now were
surrounding the bats and
pounding them into the
ground. The vampire lord,
having chased down and slain
the crew of the cannon, now
turned his attention to the
crossbows, charging them in
the rear. The dwarves fought
him to a stalemate, but then
the large unit of dire
wolves crashed into their
flank as well. Overwhelmed
at last, the
crossbow-bearers fought back
hard but eventually
succumbed. Meanwhile, the
Slayers suffered a similar
fate: after holding off the
Knights for so long and
killing half of them, a
charge in the rear from the
mounted vampire thrall (who
had separated himself from
the wolves) finally finished
them off.
But all
this brave fighting by
Slayers and crossbow dwarves
had fatally delayed the
enemy. The Warriors in the
middle had been able to
fight their several
adversaries without
interference, and this
resulted in the defeat of
the host of spirits in front
of them and a subsequent
charge of two necromancers
just behind who had been
trying to support the
ghosts. The Warriors made
quick work of the spell
casters, even after the
slow-moving regiment of
skeletons had finally
reached the battle and
charged the dwarves.
Meanwhile, on the right the
other unit of Warriors had
finally chased down the ogre
mercenaries. They had to
take a face-full of cannon
shot first, but kept coming
anyway, and when they closed
on the enemy they subdued
the ogres with many a hammer
and axe blow.
When
Alrik surveyed the
battlefield from his central
position with the Hammerers
he saw the dwarves in
command almost everywhere
except the very top of the
hill. Thus he was not
surprised when the vampire
lord – badly wounded from
early missile fire and the
fight with the crossbow
dwarves – ordered a retreat.
The remaining undead forces
began to melt back into the
dark wilderness around the
battlefield, leaving the
dwarves to tend their
wounded, round up
stragglers, and revel in
their glorious victory.
Alrik pronounced himself
most pleased, and went out
of his way to thank the
brave Warriors from
Robinson’s Rock who had
fought so well in the middle
of the field. But in his
heart anger continued to
burn, for he had been unable
to grapple with and destroy
the vampire lord, his
ancestral foe. That pleasure
would have to await another
occasion.”
-Snori
Whitebeard
[Game
result: victory for the
dwarves, who won by solid
margin. With the win the
Grinding Grumblers resume
their rightful place at the
top of the Whiz store
challenge board. They’ll
enjoy their time up there,
and hopefully defeat all
comers. If they can make
three successful defenses
then they’ll join my Orc and
Goblin army “We Gonna Thump
You” in the Hall of Battle
Whizzards as all-time
champs. But that’s a tall
order. For now, it’s just
nice to have my grumpy
little dwarves back on top
again!]
[Tactical
analysis:
My strategy for this
lineup was to build a
super-solid fighting core
with Alrik and the Hammerers
and win by grouping infantry
(and the larger shooting
units) close enough on all
sides to benefit from
Alrik’s extraordinary
leadership and gift of
rerolled break tests. Upon
setup, however, Lenny
outfoxed me: while I happily
set up most of my fighters
to the right away from his
mass in the middle, thinking
that he’d have to chase
after me, Lenny in fact
intended to attack only on
my left flank and try to
ignore the best dwarf units.
The result was that Alrik
and the Hammerers and others
had to rush forward madly to
have any impact on the game,
while my left side (with
some reinforcement from the
middle) bore the brunt of
the Vampire attack.
Fortunately for me, Lenny
had miscalculated the cost
of the magic units he wanted
to bring and ended up with
too little. This meant that,
instead of Lenny’s magic
providing him with the
winning edge in the combats
that took place on the left
(by giving him extra charge
moves or extra skeletons or
magical attacks), his troops
got no help, and the natural
talents of the physically
and psychologically tough
dwarven fighters were able
to win through against
numerous but mediocre undead
formations. An early turning
point came with the slaying
of the winged nightmare with
good shooting rolls when he
flew right in front of
crossbows and cannon; later,
the stalwart fighting of my
Warriors in the middle of
the board, successively
defeating or killing ghouls,
ghosts, and both
necromancers, sealed the
win.]
Battle #32:
High Elf
Rematch
[Game
situation: 6-turn pitched
battle against Chris Walsh’s
High Elven army the
Mighty Mighty Whizzards.
The Grinding Grumblers held
the top spot on the board
and Chris’ elves were coming
after them. Yes, this one
was for all the marbles! Win
and I would remain at the
pinnacle, logging my first
defense, and hurl the elves
to the bottom of the board;
lose, and I’m the one
tumbling all the way down.
2000 points per army. The
dwarves brought two
regiments of Warriors (20
and 16), 14 Crossbow
Dwarves, 10 Miners, 18 elite
Hammerers, 1 cannon, 2 bolt
throwers, 1 stone thrower, 1
Gyrocopter, two Runesmiths,
and a dwarf Lord serving as
general.]
Log
entry:
“Buford
Bugman, fearless leader of
the dwarves of Robinson’s
Rock, leaned forward on his
great axe and stared
greedily toward the High Elf
lines. ‘Which ones shall I
kill first? Oooh, so many
choices, so many skinny
little elf necks!’ he
rumbled joyfully, spittle
flying as he spoke.
Buford
had been waiting many long
months for this chance. Ever
since a High Elf army had
blasted through a force from
Robinson’s Rock when Buford
hadn’t been with them to
prevent it
(see Battle #20, “Leave
Magic to the Elves”),
he had hoped and prayed that
he’d be able to avenge the
wrong done to his people —
and now the opportunity was
at hand. Two days before,
scouting dwarf Rangers had
reported to him that a large
column of High Elves was
moving through the foothills
well below the dwarf
mountain fastness. Buford
had calculated that if he
acted quickly, he might be
able to use the network of
dwarf-hewn tunnels to move a
moderate-sized army into a
position blocking the elves’
progress. He then summoned
his Hammerer bodyguard and a
good-sized force of other
fighters and artillery to
march out at once, and had
reached the ground he now
held just in time to see the
High Elves come through a
pass and appear across the
plateau before him. As soon
as the enemy column fanned
out, with speedy chariots
and Silver Helm heavy
cavalry getting ready to
sprint forth, he ordered the
dwarven artillery and
crossbows to shoot at will.
The elf
army consisted of two Great
Eagles lurking behind a
cliff directly across open
ground from the central hill
where all the dwarf missile
troops and guns were
stationed. The rest of the
elf army deployed off to the
right, hoping to gang up on
Buford’s Hammerers and a
small unit of Warriors just
to the right of the hill.
The elf forces included
(from left to right) a
chariot, a regiment of
spearmen, a mass of elite
Swordsmasters, another
chariot, more spearmen, and
on the far edge a sizable
unit of Silver Helm cavalry.
Behind these forces on a
small hill sat two repeater
bolt throwers, getting ready
to rain shots down on the
dwarf forces.
But
Buford had gained the
initiative by reaching this
position before the elves
did, and made good use of
it. As the larger regiment
of Warriors off to the left
and the Gyrocopter just
behind it moved forward to
more useful stations, the
many dwarf shooters fired
away at the elves. The
cannon took aim at one of
the chariots and promptly
blasted it to smithereens;
the other chariot was also
soon destroyed with a
combination of an accurate
bolt thrower shot and many
crossbow bolt hits. The
second dwarf bolt thrower,
activating the Master Rune
of Skewering engineers had
carved into it, killed two
of the Silver Helms, and the
stone thrower dropped a huge
boulder smack onto the heads
of the Swordsmasters,
slaying quite a few. All
this carnage occurred on but
the first salvo! Buford was
filled with glee, but tried
to sound grumpy as he yelled
to the artillery units
behind him. “Leave some for
us, boys!”
The
elves, despite the murderous
fire, sprung to the advance.
Great Eagles took flight and
sped straight toward the
dwarf gunnery on the hill.
On the far right the Silver
Helm cavalry also made a
swift move forward,
threatening the smallish
formation of Warriors
holding the right flank of
the dwarf line (who now
backed away slightly to buy
more time for the dwarf
shooters to do their work).
In the middle of the elf
line all the infantry
advanced as rapidly as they
could, but, quick as elven
infantry is, they could not
keep up with the Great
Eagles and cavalry on either
side of them. They were also
soon hindered by the bizarre
dwarven contraption that is
the Gyrocopter, which by now
was chugging through the air
into position to harry them
with fire from its steam
gun. As metal shot tore into
the elven ranks, a number of
spearmen and Swordsmasters
fell, and the rest had to
slow their march to keep an
eye on the ‘copter.
Moreover, the fire from the
rest of the dwarven missiles
kept coming: the cannon and
stone thrower took away the
lives of more Silver Helm
cavalry, and the crossbows
and bolt throwers combined
to knock one of the Great
Eagles dead out of the sky.
As if
things couldn’t get worse
for the elves, a small force
of dwarven Miners suddenly
appeared out of a secret
tunnel right near the
repeater bolt throwers on
their little hill, and soon
were ready to assault them.
Bravely the elven crew
decided to keep firing on
the main dwarf army, and
managed to slay a few
crossbow dwarves and
Hammerer infantry. But
before long one of the elven
machines was crushed under
the blows of the Miners’
picks and hammers as the
crew fled, and the other,
finally taking a defensive
shot at the grimly advancing
Miners, managed to slay only
a few before being
overwhelmed.
With
the elven artillery wiped
out, and the eerie absence
of any High Elf
spell-casting (Buford
couldn’t believe his luck on
that score, though now
grumbled to himself about
all the pains he took to
bring dwarven counter-magic
to the field), the dwarven
crossbows and guns would
completely monopolize ranged
combat. But at this point
the swiftest of the elves
had reached the dwarven
lines and began to punish
their chosen targets in
close-quarters fighting. The
surviving Great Eagle flew
into the crew of the stone
thrower on top of the hill,
ripping fiercely with its
talons: two of the three
dwarves swiftly died, and
the last fled away, only to
be snatched up by the
pursuing Eagle and dropped
to his death from a dizzying
height. One artillery piece
was now out of commission.
And on the right flank the
Silver Helm heavy cavalry —
but a shadow of its former
size thanks to relentless
dwarven cannon and bolt
thrower fire — crashed into
the smaller Warrior regiment
with a powerful impact,
slaying the front rank of
the dwarves and then
unfurling a magical banner
of terrible import.
Confusion reigned among the
Warriors, as those who stood
firm were nearly knocked
over by the flight of their
magically unnerved comrades,
and as the elves rode
through the infantry all
cohesion disintegrated and
the dwarves were routed off
the field of battle.
Buford,
seeing the fate that befell
the Warriors to his right
and knowing he could do
nothing for them, bellowed
in outrage and slogged
forward with his Hammerers
toward the elven spearmen
and Swordsmasters already
closing on them. The larger
Warrior regiment, which had
by now marched from the left
side of the hill to the
right, also rushed forward
toward the last unit of elf
spearmen. But just before
these infantry battles were
joined, the High Elves
received one last
devastating shock: their
noble Lord and general,
riding with the much-reduced
Silver Helm cavalry, took a
close-range cannonball from
the dwarf cannon smack in
his pointy head, with
predictably grotesque
results. The few remaining
Silver Helms were stunned.
The elf infantry could not
avoid the close combat that
was now upon them, and
valiantly charged forward
and fought gamely for a
time, but it was clear that
the heart had gone out of
them. After Buford’s great
axe bisected an elf champion
at the torso in one massive
blow, the High Elves had had
enough: they turned up their
noses at the hopeless battle
and used their superior
speed to withdraw. Buford,
his need for vengeance sated
by his kill and the overall
result of the battle,
ordered his men not to shoot
or otherwise impede the
elves’ retreat. “There’s a
grudge properly avenged —
and I won’t shoot a soldier
in the back, even a no-good
elf,” he told his Hammerers
with pride. “Now, back to
the hold: we have some
celebrating to do!” And with
a roar of approval from the
army, all returned to the
tunnel home with a light
step and visions of freely
flowing dwarven ale dancing
in their heads.”
-Snori
Whitebeard
[Game
result: victory for the
dwarves, who won by a large
margin (Chris resigned
before the bitter end, so we
didn’t add up the points).
Thus the Grumblers remain at
the top of the board, and
now have a defense to their
credit. Two more defenses
and the army will ascend to
the Hall of Battle Whizzards
in supreme glory (i.e., be
retired from the challenge
board for being too dang
good!).]
[Tactical
analysis: When a fairly
shooty dwarf army with a
clear field of fire wins the
roll to go first and then
gets extremely lucky with
its shots in the first two
turns, it’s hard for any
opponent to come back. The
story of this fight was the
near-perfect die rolling I
pulled off with my
artillery, especially but
not only on the first turn.
Where my bolt throwers
couldn’t hit the broad side
of a barn in my last match
with these same high elves,
this time they couldn’t
miss; further, my guess
weaponry never misfired (I
did have to reroll once with
a Rune of Forging on the
cannon) and always struck
its target — the accuracy
was incredible, and not just
because I was guessing
ranges pretty well. The
upshot was that Chris’
strategy for taking out my
gunnery with chariots and
eagles crashed and burned as
surely as these units fell
early. The large shooting
casualties I inflicted on
his cavalry and infantry,
while impressive and good
for victory points, did not
actually affect the game
nearly so much: his Silver
Helms still crushed the
16-dwarf Warrior unit it
charged (thanks to its +d6
CR magic banner), and by the
time his infantry got into
the fight things already
seemed pretty hopeless. The
killing cannon shot on his
300+ point general — he
missed his ward save, I
maxed out the damage roll —
was the final crushing blow.
Chris’ strategy of
overloading one side of the
field with large spear units
to go with the Swordsmasters
and cavalry, while using
eagles and chariots and
repeater bolt throwers to
kill or distract my gunnery,
might have worked if more of
my artillery and crossbowmen
had in fact gotten smooshed:
if they had, when his
cavalry and infantry made it
into battle, they would have
been numerically much
stronger and would not have
had to win all their fights
to pull off a victory in the
game. That being said,
spearmen might not have been
best. Dwarven infantry,
whether Core choice warriors
or elite Hammerers, do quite
well against elven spearmen
in battle. All those extra
spear attacks are still made
at S3, vs. heavily armored
and fully ranked T4 dwarves,
who hit back at them S3 or 4
vs. T3 and little armor. If
the dwarves remain unflanked,
they have little to fear.
Chris bringing no
spellcasters to the battle
was not surprising — he’s
done it before — but given
the potentially devastating
High Elf magic, I had to
prepare for elf wizards
anyway. Chris counted on
this, and was surely happy
at the 100 points of
Spellbreaking runes and two
Runesmiths I brought, points
that could have been spent
on more conventionally
useful things. But my
Runesmiths could fight well
(both had 1+ armor saves in
close combat to go with
their decent fighting
stats), and I think overall
it’s not a bad bargain for
the dwarves to give up 10%
or less of their points in
exchange for the dominance
over ranged combat that zero
elf magic usually gives them.]
[Editor's
Note: Yep. Next time I
bring the Book of Hoeth,
cheesy or not! -Chris]
Battle #33:
What,
Again?!
[Game
situation: 6-turn pitched
battle against Mike Hoey’s
High Elven army the
Defenders of Ulthuan.
The Grinding Grumblers held
the top spot on the board
and Mike’s elves were coming
after them. Yes, this one
was for all the marbles once
again! Win and I would
remain at the pinnacle,
logging my second defense,
and hurl the elves to the
bottom of the board; lose,
and I’m the one tumbling all
the way down. 2500 points
per army. The dwarves
brought three regiments of
Warriors (19, 19, and 16),
12 Crossbow Dwarves, 12
Thunderers, 10 Miners, 18
elite Hammerers, 1 cannon, 2
bolt throwers, 1 stone
thrower, 1 Gyrocopter, two
Runesmiths, one Thane battle
standard bearer, and a dwarf
Lord serving as general.]
Log
entry:
“More
elves?!” Buford shouted,
spittle flying from his
beard. “What, do those
pointy-heads breed like
rabbits now as well as run
like them?”
Buford
Bugman, fearless leader of
the dwarves of Robinson’s
Rock, had good reason for
his outburst. Having not an
hour before brought his
victorious army into the
tunnels leading homeward, he
encountered a regiment of
Clan Warriors and Thunderers
hurrying out in his
direction. They told him
that the High Elf army
Buford had just defeated
[see
previous battle report]
was not alone; it had been
but the vanguard of a
still larger force on the
march across dwarf lands,
destination unknown. The
Thunderers and extra
Warriors were sent by the
council of elders to
reinforce Buford’s army so
that he might head off the
elves before they attained
their mysterious (and
undoubtedly nefarious)
objective. Tired as he and
his soldiers were, he knew
the council was right — such
a huge army of elves could
not be allowed to operate
freely in the foothills of
the dwarf mountains. Thus he
turned to give his troops
the news, certain that,
though battle-weary, they
would tighten their belts,
heft their shields again,
and set off to turn back the
elven menace.
By the
next morning the dwarf army
held a position blocking the
pass toward which the elven
force had been heading.
Buford placed his stone
thrower and cannon on a
small hill behind the right
side of his line. In front
of the hill stood the
Thunderers. To their left
came bunched together the
heart of the dwarven force:
three infantry blocks, two
of Warriors and one of
Buford’s bodyguard of elite
fighters, the Hammerers. To
their left the crossbow
dwarves stretched out, with
a bolt thrower slightly
behind and to each side of
their line. Guarding the
extreme left flank was
another sizable unit of
Warriors. Behind them the
Gyrocopter began to warm up
its strange (and noisy)
engine as it prepared for
flight. The dwarves knew the
High Elves were not far off.
Buford
and company nevertheless had
to wait some time for the
pale devils actually to
arrive on scene. The reason
became clear when the elves
finally appeared: at the
very top of a large hill
directly opposite the
crossbow dwarves two
repeater bolt throwers
slowly hove into view. It
must have taken some time to
get the war machines up to
that height. A unit of elf
archers joined the elven
artillery on a tier just
below. (Buford smiled at the
sight of these emplacements:
he had secreted a small unit
of Miners in the tunnels at
the base of the hill, and
figured it wouldn’t be long
before they took down the
elf machinery.) To the
extreme left of the big hill
another unit of elf archers
came into view, but they
were standing so far away
that the dwarves wondered if
they would ever have to
fight them. Closer in, two
units of heavy cavalry
(Silver Helms and Dragon
Princes) threatened the left
flank of the dwarves. But
the bulk of the elf army
crowded into a small area to
the right of the hill:
Swordmasters, more archers,
a large unit of mercenary
Irongut ogres, White Lions,
spear bearers, and more
Silver Helms. (“Ogres? The
elves can’t even fight their
own battles,” thought Buford
to himself with a snort).
As
Buford watched the elf army
get into position he noticed
the senior Runesmith
standing next to him
shuffling his feet guiltily.
He suddenly knew why:
no elven mages!
Again! Buford couldn’t
believe it. After all the
long speeches he had endured
from this windbag (and the
junior Runesmith deployed
with the neighboring
Warriors) about the
importance of magical
defense against High Elves,
now he saw it was all for
naught. “Well, just see that
you make yourself useful
with your hammer, by Grimnir!”
Buford growled to the
shamefaced dwarf. And with
that he ordered the
artillery to open fire.
The
dwarves targeted the While
Lions with their heavy guns,
and between a good cannon
shot and an accurately
lobbed boulder from the
stone thrower, the White
Lions took grievous
casualties. One of the bolt
throwers also struck home,
killing another elf. The
crossbow dwarves peppered
the elf archers up on the
hill, knocking off a few,
and the Thunderers stepped
forward to be able to shoot
at the Silver Helms across
from them, but none fell.
The Gyrocopter took off and
flew forward to harry the
two units of heavy cavalry
aimed toward the left flank
of the dwarves. Buford
bellowed for the three
infantry blocks in the
middle to advance in order
to form a more even line, to
protect the shooters to
either side of them — and to
wring some elf necks all the
sooner, of course!
The
elves quickly responded,
targeting Buford’s Hammerers
with every archer and bolt
thrower available (only the
archers on the extreme left
could not reach, so they
sent their arrows plunking
harmlessly off the side of
the Gyrocopter as they
advanced). The result was a
lot of accurate missile fire
and a lot of dead Hammerers,
and a Buford livid with
anger. “Come closer, you
fiends from hell!” he
shouted futilely, shaking
his fat fist. And the elves
did come closer, but not
right at Buford. The various
Silver Helms and Dragon
Princes on the two flanks
galloped forward to set up
charges on the dwarves lined
up at either end. The White
Lions marched up quickly
despite their reduced state,
followed closely by the
ogres and spear bearers. The
Swordmasters were blocked
from coming forward by a
line of elf archers and both
units spent valuable time
getting out of each others’
way. Meanwhile, the dwarves
kept up their shooting
pressure. The cannon got the
range on the Ironguts and
managed to kill one ogre and
wound two others, while the
stone thrower slaughtered
still more White Lions. The
crossbowmen and one of the
dwarf bolt throwers hit
little, but the other bolt
thrower exploited a perfect
flank shot opportunity
against the Dragon Princes
and managed to slay half of
them, even as the Gyrocopter
sprayed steam gun fire
toward them at the same
time. The Thunderers also
wreaked havoc on the Silver
Helms approaching on the
right, their metal shot
penetrating the heavy armor
nicely and killing all but a
couple of the knights.
The
missile fire of the dwarves
was clearly inflicting heavy
losses, but no elf unit had
yet panicked or become
disheartened, so the dwarves
prepared themselves for
hand-to-hand combat. On the
right side of the field the
badly hurt White Lion and
Silver Helm units combined
their efforts and
simultaneously charged the
rightmost Warrior regiment.
The numerous, deeply ranked
dwarves quickly drove off
the cavalry, but could not
pursue because they were
locked in combat with the
White Lions, who proved to
be tough foes. Moreover, the
enemy general was in that
unit and had issued a
challenge to the dwarven
leadership; naturally, the
junior Runesmith deployed
with the Warriors had
eagerly accepted. The elf
lord came at the smith with
an incredible flurry of
blows using a heavily
enchanted blade – if the
dwarf hadn’t been wearing
rune-enhanced Gromril armor,
he surely would have died
swiftly. As it was, he still
suffered a serious wound
when the enemy blade snuck
under his shield to stab his
side, but he gritted his
teeth and fought back as
best he could. He took heart
in one thing: he noticed
that the elf lord had
already sustained a serious
wound to his left shoulder,
presumably from the
maelstrom of dwarven gunfire
previously directed at the
unit, and was bleeding
profusely; the smith knew
that all he had to do was
get one good blow in to that
shoulder and he would have
the glory of the victory. So
he kept swinging his hammer.
On the
left the Silver Helm cavalry
charged into the unit of
Warriors guarding that
flank, but got a rude shock:
the riders could do nothing
to hurt the resilient
dwarves and their heavy
armor, and the weight of the
dwarven ranks and numbers
drove them straight back so
that they had to drop their
standard and barely escaped
with their lives. The Dragon
Princes, now very few in
number, looked to charge
into Buford’s much reduced
Hammerers, but pulled up at
the last moment. Buford and
the others looked around for
an explanation, and soon got
it, for yet another volley
of arrows and bolts rained
down on them from all sides,
slaying many more in a
terrible bloodbath. The
Dragon Princes grinned at
them, waiting for still more
to fall before finishing
them off with a charge.
Buford was enraged, but not
so much he couldn’t think,
and swiftly decided on a new
course of action. Only one
Hammerer now remained from
his veteran bodyguard, and
Buford ordered him to march
right in front of the elven
cavalry, covering the move
of his general, the battle
standard bearer, and the
senior Runesmith back toward
the dwarf lines and crossbow
unit waiting for them. The
Hammerer blinked once as he
digested the full import of
the command, then nodded
grimly, saying, “It will be
my honor, Lord Bugman!” He
then marched off to stand
directly in the path of the
elven horsemen, great hammer
at the ready. As Buford
pulled himself and the other
leaders back, he glared up
at the elven bolt throwers
on top of the hill and
wondered crossly why the
Miners hadn’t taken them out
yet.
In
fact, the Miners were
getting ready to do just
that. They had emerged from
their secret tunnel on the
far side of the hill right
on cue, and had immediately
begun to ascend the slope
toward the elvish artillery.
But the hill proved to be
very steep indeed on that
side, and the dwarves in
their heavy armor lugging
their great picks on their
short legs found that it
took quite some time to get
in striking distance of the
elves. The elves had seen
them appear but ignored them
in order to keep up the
barrage against the
Hammerers. Dwarves, however,
are relentless when they set
a goal in their heads, and
the Miners kept coming,
huffing and puffing, up the
steep slope. Just as the
elves at the bolt throwers
were snickering about the
way they had practically
annihilated the dwarven
general’s guard, the Miners
let out a triumphant shout
and charged. The elves had
no time to swing their
machines about, and after a
perfunctory defense died
beneath the great picks as
they attempted to flee. Both
elven bolt throwers were now
mercifully out of action.
Back on
the right side of the field,
the melee between Warriors
and White Lions continued. A
second Warrior regiment had
charged into the fight to
reinforce the first, giving
the dwarves an even greater
numerical advantage. But the
few remaining White Lions
held stubbornly firm behind
their leader. Then the ogre
Ironguts, who had been
lumbering forward toward the
Hammerers, found their way
blocked by some dwarf
Warriors who had wrapped
around the flanks of the
White Lions. So the ogres
changed direction and threw
their considerable bulk into
the flank of the second
group of Warriors. This
fight now became even more
frantic and bloody. The
dwarves got a boost when the
junior Runesmith landed a
crushing hammer blow on the
elf lord’s wounded shoulder,
sending him to the ground in
a heap, after which he was
easily dispatched.
Unfortunately, the ogres hit
far harder than the
Runesmith, and many dwarven
bodies were sent flying by
the force of the huge
two-handed weapons of the
Ironguts. At the same time,
the elf spear bearers
charged into the other side
of the massive melee. It was
the last straw: one of the
Warrior units, sensing their
imminent doom, disgracefully
turned and fled, only to be
pursued and destroyed by the
spear bearers. The last
group of Warriors held on
for a little longer, and
even managed to slay one of
the ogres, but when they had
been reduced to less than
half their original number
they finally broke and fled,
somehow escaping
destruction.
Only
one lone White Lion remained
alive. Energized by his
improbable survival against
the two units of Warriors,
he let out a high-pitched
elven battle yell and
prepared to sprint up the
low hill at the cannon that
had killed so many of his
companions earlier in the
day. Instead, he got a face
full of grapeshot from the
same gun and fell headless
to the ground. (The cannon
crew let out their own
cheer.) The ogres couldn’t
decide whether to charge the
Warriors, who had fled but
now were rallying
themselves, the stone
thrower on the hill next to
the cannon, or the unit of
Thunderers on the far right
which had redeployed into a
tight formation ready for
combat. In the end, their
decision was made for them.
The elite Swordmasters, who
had finally advanced past
their own archers to the
middle of the field, aimed
themselves directly toward
the dwarf crossbows. Buford
— now with the crossbow unit
— ordered the dwarves to
fire at will. Bolts tore
through the elf armor with
ease and frequency just as
the Gyrocopter swooped down
upon them like a gigantic
insect, its steam gun
spraying deadly projectiles
through their tight ranks.
After covering only a little
bit of ground, no more than
a third of the elite elves
remained alive.
At this
point, with their lord
general dead, despairing of
victory and fearing total
annihilation, the
Swordmasters called a
general retreat with several
notes blasted on the horn of
their musician. All the
remaining elves began to
retire backward, and the
ogres scratched their ugly
heads and pulled back as
well. Buford, his own
bloodlust well sated by what
he had seen, ordered the
dwarves to hold their fire
and not to pursue. “Enough
death and carnage for one
day,” he declared. “Let ‘em
run. We’ve ruined their
plans, whatever they were,
and they’ll not be lookin’
to come back this way
anytime soon, I reckon.” We
all hoped he was right.
-Snori
Whitebeard
[Game
result: victory for the
dwarves! The short ones had
a 500-point lead and a
superior position when my
opponent decided to resign.
Thus the Grumblers remain at
the top of the challenge
board, and now have a second
defense to their credit. One
more defense and the army
will ascend to the Hall of
Battle Whizzards in supreme
glory (i.e., be retired from
the challenge board for
being too dang good!).]
[Tactical
analysis: I had the better
luck at the start of the
game, making the elf start
deploying first and then
getting to move first myself
— always a big advantage
with shooty armies. I chose
to defend the right corner
of the board, knowing that
the large hill set up in the
right center of his zone
would leave him little room
to fit all his troops in,
and indeed overcrowding
badly hampered his advance.
I made a mistake myself
after the game began: I was
too aggressive in moving my
infantry blocks forward,
making it possible for the
elf to threaten and
eventually get flank attacks
on them.
Our shooting
luck was about even and
generally pretty good, but I
had the more powerful
weapons, so the elves paid
dearly as they advanced. His
total concentration on
shooting down my Hammerers
was surprising but made
excellent sense upon
reflection: it was my best
and most expensive unit by
far and had my general and
BSB and a Runesmith to boot.
If he could soften it up
enough and then charge it
with his ogres, he could
wipe it out— and with it my
chances in the game. But the
ogres got bogged down in the
big infantry melee on the
right, and my characters
jumped ship and escaped to
another unit before the
Hammerers’ bitter end. With
that plum gone, and the
battles on the fringes all
going the dwarves’ way
(repulsed cavalry charges on
the flanks, Miners vs. elven
crews), only a clean sweep
of the big battles could
save the elf. The death of
his general took the
sweetness out of his victory
in the big infantry fight on
the right, and the gunning
down of his Swordmasters
from afar was the final
straw leading to his
resignation.
His bringing no
spell-casters was an
interesting gambit. He got
me to spend a good 2-3
hundred points (runes of
spellbreaking, Runesmiths)
that could have been spent
more usefully elsewhere. But
without magic the High Elves
lose one of their best
weapons, and my dwarves
proved too damaging from
afar and tough in close for
him to make it up. On the
other hand, I had prepared
well for enemy magic and he
would have had to spend a
hideous amount (or gotten
very lucky indeed) to make
it work reliably against me.]
Battle #34: Buford’s
Last
Stand?
[Game
situation: 6-turn pitched
battle against Dan and John
Polanowicz’s Chaos army the
Black Ravens.
The Grinding Grumblers held
the top spot on the store’s
challenge board and Dan &
John’s Chaos troops were
coming after them. 2000
points per army. The dwarves
brought one regiment of 20
Warriors, 12 Crossbow
Dwarves, 12 Thunderers, 14
Miners, 17 elite Hammerers,
16 elite Ironbreakers, 10
Slayers, 2 bolt throwers, 1
Runesmith, one Thane battle
standard bearer, and a dwarf
Lord serving as general —
Buford Bugman himself. See
text for the Chaos forces.]
Log
entry:
“Buford
Bugman, our fearless leader,
strode down the long line of
dwarven infantry as the
forces of Chaos gathered
across the field before us.
Some of the younger dwarves
looked nervous. ‘Nothing to
worry about, boys,’ Buford
bellowed jauntily. ‘They may
be ugly, but a good crack
with your hammer’ll lay ‘em
out just as you please!’
Snickers greeted the remark,
and the mood lightened just
a bit.
Buford
had led his forces out of
the mountains surrounding
Robinson’s Rock to aid his
human friends in the plains
below. Chaos raiders had
been ravaging and murdering
their way across Empire
lands for some time, and the
humans had invoked the
ancient alliance to summon
the dwarves. Buford had
moved quickly once word
reached him, bringing lots
of hardy infantry and only a
little bit of artillery (two
smallish bolt throwers) so
the army could move faster.
After a few days of marching
vainly around a plain
darkened and smokey from
burned out farms and
villages, Buford & company
had managed to spy the enemy
army from afar and catch up
to it with a night march,
and now stood staring across
the broken and slightly
hilly ground at the
gathering enemy horde. It
was a very fast and
potentially hard-hitting
force facing us: on the far
left a pack of slavering
Warhounds growled at the
ready; next to them a
largish mass of demonic
Furies circled in the air. A
small wooded hill stood
between them and the dwarves
opposite them who guarded
the left flank of our lines:
a group of Thunderers and
one of the bolt throwers,
both up on a hill. In the
center of the Chaos lines
was the main enemy force: a
huge beastman herd commanded
by two sorcerous champions,
backed by a large mass of
Marauder infantry with an
Aspiring Champion in command
and no fewer than three
units of Chaos Knights
grimly sitting their large
and ill-tempered horses. The
mid-most of the Knight units
contained the enemy general,
a deadly Exalted Champion.
Across from this strike
force was the heart of the
dwarven army: from left to
right, a unit of Slayers, a
regiment of dwarf Warriors,
Buford and his elite
Hammerer bodyguard (with a
Thane carrying the dwarf
battle standard), and
finally a regiment of
rock-hard Ironbreakers led
by a Runesmith. On the right
edge of the Chaos lines
congregated four demonic
Screamers, threatening to
wing their way speadily
toward the dwarves guarding
our right flank, which were
a unit of Crossbow Dwarves
and another bolt thrower,
the Crossbows fronting a
small hill upon which the
artillery piece had been
deployed.
As soon
as it was clear what we
would be facing, Buford
returned to his Hammerers
and gave the order to
commence firing. The two
bolt throwers sent their
large missiles flying toward
Chaos Knight units, but
neither shot hit its mark.
The Thunderers were out of
range to the enemy, but not
the Crossbow Dwarves, who
slew two of four Chaos
Knights in the rightmost
such unit with a well-aimed
hail of bolts. The rest of
the dwarves adjusted their
positions in the line to
prepare for the advancing
enemy, with Buford and the
nearby elite infantry units
moving up slightly.
The
Chaos forces shrugged off
the dwarf missile fire and
leapt to the advance. On
either flank the enemy
fliers sped forward through
the air aiming themselves at
the bolt throwers on each
end. These were accompanied
by the Warhounds on the left
which coursed around the
intervening hill to threaten
the Thunderers, and the
now-reduced unit of Knights
on the right that headed
toward the Crossbow Dwarves.
In the middle the entire
enemy force lurched forward
into motion, the massive
beast herd leading the way
with Marauders and the other
two elite Knight companies
following closely. While
there was no shooting coming
from the Chaos lines, the
warrior-sorcerors among the
beastmen sent powerful
magics at us, and would have
caused much carnage had it
not been for the inherent
resistance of the dwarves
coupled with the frantic
countermeasures of our
Runesmith, who (with three
Runes of Spellbreaking ready
to hand) would do a sterling
job all day long of
thwarting incoming enemy
spells.
On the
flanks the dwarves did
insufficient damage with
their shooting to prevent
the enemy fliers from
reaching their targets.
Neither bolt thrower hit
anything with their shots,
for example. However, the
majority of the Furies on
the left were shot out of
the sky by the Thunderers,
so only a few made it to
attack the bolt thrower on
that side; on the right
edge, the Crossbow Dwarves
took out one of the
Screamers, the other three
reaching the bolt thrower on
the hill. The crew of the
leftmost bolt thrower fought
bravely and managed to hold
off the remaining Furies for
a time, but eventually both
artillery pieces were
destroyed by the winged
demons, which pursued
fleeing crews off the field
of battle.
All
this time the main Chaos
force got closer and closer
to the dwarves in the
middle. Buford, anxious to
come to grips with the
enemy, marched his Hammerers
forward and to the left,
using a patch of broken
ground to cover his right
flank. To Buford’s left the
Slayers stood their ground,
with the Warriors hanging
back slightly between the
two units looking to
counter-charge. To the right
the Ironbreakers kept an eye
on the weakend Knight
regiment, which seemed
headed toward the Crossbows.
The cavalrymen feinted there
at first, changed course,
then had to flee away when
the Crossbows ranked
themselves up and charged
them; the Ironbreakers acted
as a reserve to be used
either here or to support
Buford. Finally, a unit of
Miners (after a slight
delay) came up from some
tunnels behind the dwarf
lines to support to Slayers
and Warriors.
The
fateful clash of arms in the
middle began with the
enormous beastman herd
crashing into the Slayers,
and the Chaos Knights with
the Exalted Champion general
charging Buford’s Hammerers.
The unarmored Slayers took
major casualties from the
raging beasts without being
able to do much in return,
but their unbreakable spirit
meant that they would never
run. Similarly the Hammerers
– a stubborn and highly
disciplined bunch with the
battle standard in their
midst to inspire them –
refused to turn and flee
when the torrent of forceful
blows from Knights and
warhorses slew many of their
number. They also had our
fearless leader Buford to
admire: when the enemy
Exalted Champion issued a
challenge to the dwarves,
Bugman stepped forward to
duel him with forthright
courage — and proceeded to
wound the enemy (nearly
severing his foot!) with a
powerful swing of his axe.
His own well-runed gromril
armor was proof against all
blows.
Now the
Warriors saw their chance.
Waiting between the Slayers
and Hammerers, they had a
fantastic opportunity to
smash their way into the
flank of the beastman herd
and hopefully set them to
flight. The Miners also
rushed up, positioning
themselves beside the
Slayers at the front of the
beast mass. The weight of
all these ranked and armored
(and generously
beer-bellied) dwarves
pressed hard upon the
suddenly outnumbered Chaos
unit, which reeled from the
flank hits they received yet
nevertheless succeeded in
killing every remaining
Slayer, giving them enough
courage to hold their
ground. This act of beastly
valor soon paid off, for the
last company of Chaos
Knights now plowed into the
flank of the Warrior
regiment parked in the flank
of the beastmen. A furious
melee ensued, Miners &
Warriors vs. beastmen &
heavy cavalry. The dwarves
took greater losses thanks
mostly to the numerous
deadly blows of the warrior-sorceror
Lord leading the beasts. The
Miners took the brunt of his
hits and had to withdraw
from the combat to regroup.
Amazingly, the Warriors
continued to fight well
despite being outnumbered
and flanked by an elite
unit; their armor protected
them somewhat, and they were
inspired by Buford’s
battlecries and the dwarf
battle standard not far off.
Meanwhile, the battle
between the Hammerers and
the enemy general’s Knights
continued to rage. The
dwarven rank and file were
getting mauled by the bigger
and faster cavalrymen and
rarely could get a blow in.
Only the dwarf leaders
scored occasional hits, as
when the Thane (in time)
killed a couple of Knights
and Buford – roaring his
triumph – decapitated the
Exalted Champion’s horse and
then the Champion himself
when he fell to the ground
off the collapsing mount.
But before the dwarves could
take advantage of this coup,
three flying Screamers
(returning now from their
earlier artillery hunt)
struck the rear of Buford’s
unit. More Hammerers fell,
and for a moment it appeared
that our leader, stripped of
almost all his bodyguard,
might be overwhelmed. Buford
called for the Ironbreakers
to intervene, and they did
by charging the Screamers
from behind. And so the
melee roared on even hotter
than before. The
Ironbreakers were initially
distracted when the last of
the Knight unit that had
been maneuvering against the
Crossbow Dwarves on the
right charged into their
flank and tried to kill our
Runesmith. But the Smith
held him off, and soon the
Ironbreakers could
concentrate their efforts
against the Screamers in aid
of Buford. It was too much
for the Chaos forces. With
Screamers dying beneath the
blows of the dwarf leaders
and crushed from behind by
the ranks and numbers of the
Ironbreakers, the enemy lost
hope and fled. The
Ironbreakers caught and slew
the last Screamer with a
surprising burst of speed
(one wing of the Screamer
had been injured in the
fight, truth be told), while
Buford, the Thane, and the
sole remaining Hammerer
rushed after the two fleeing
Knights, though did not
catch them.
Buford’s victory inspired
the rest of the dwarves. The
Warriors who had been
tenaciously holding on
against heavy odds took
heart, and the Knights who
had been killing many a
Warrior on the flank
suddenly panicked when they
saw the other Knights routed
and Buford headed in their
general direction. Off they
fled, enabling the Warriors
to redouble their efforts
against the beastman herd,
causing them to run too, out
of the reach of the dwarves.
Unfortunately for the
Warriors, their trials were
not over: the large regiment
of enemy Marauders, which
had not been able to squeeze
into combat anywhere before,
now plunged into the (once
again exposed!) flank of the
pursuing Warriors. Buford,
the Hammerer(s), and the
Ironbreakers could not help;
they were off chasing the
remnants of the enemy’s
Knight companies. The Miners
just behind the Warriors
might have come up to assist
them had they not themselves
been attacked by the last of
the Furies. (The Miners
eventually slew the demonic
things, but it took some
time). The Thunderers off to
the left were busy shooting
down Warhounds. So the
Warriors were on their own.
They acquitted themselves
well enough in the fight,
but the real victory was
simply in standing their
ground under the weight of
all those Marauders crushing
their flank. They simply
would not budge.
This
was enough for the rest of
the Chaos forces. Their
general dead, their fliers
all slain, their elite
cavalry ruined, and the
(remaining) dwarven infantry
and missile troops holding
strong everywhere on the
field, the beastman sorceror-Lord
called for a retreat. The
surviving Chaos forces
withdrew, to the great
relief of Buford and the
dwarves. There had been
enough bloodletting for one
day.
Buford
clapped the back of the lone
remaining Hammerer, telling
him he could fight at his
side any time. The dwarf
beamed his pride at his
lord’s confidence. But when
Buford strode off, the
Hammerer couldn’t help
wondering, given the bodies
of every other Hammerer
lying around him, whether
such confidence was a
healthy thing.”
-Snori
Whitebeard
[Game
result: victory for the
dwarves! The short ones had
a 569-point edge at the end,
good for a Minor Victory in
a 2000 point game. As this
was their 3rd
defense of their title, the
Grinding Grumblers will
ascend to the Hall of Battle
Whizzards in supreme glory
(i.e., be retired from the
challenge board for being
too dang good!).
[Tactical
analysis:
This was an exciting
game that came down to the
last turn. It was a classic
Warhammer back and forth, in
that in the first 2-3 turns
I was feeling fairly
confident, then around turn
4 I thought I would probably
lose, then as the end
approached I began to regain
my confidence.
With
my lineup I had purposely
chosen not to go very shooty,
knowing that Chaos could not
outgun me from afar and play
keepaway. So I took lots of
elite infantry instead of
artillery and planned to win
via close combat. What
gunnery I did take was
mostly designed to help me
if he took monsters and
such. My opponent surprised
me then with a very speedy
army with no monsters at
all. The key was to keep my
flanks safe so the fight in
the middle would be a
straight-up affair. I did,
it was, and I prevailed –
but just barely!
The
Hammerer fight was key. I
made a big mistake initially
by letting the dwarves use
their 2-handed weapons,
thinking that they’d come in
useful vs all that heavy
knightly armor. But the
knights hit first and
usually killed all rank and
file, preventing
attack-backs – I would have
been much better served to
use hand weapons and shield
to give them a chance at an
armor save. Fortunately,
Buford and the Thane rolled
fine with their awesome
armor saves and hit back
well enough themselves,
slowly whittling down the
knights. When Buford killed
the general I turned a
corner in that fight. The
Ironbreakers arrived just in
time to win the fight before
every last Hammerer around
Buford and the Thane BSB
died.
Just
as key was the battle
involving beastmen,
Warriors, Knights, Slayers,
and Miners. When I
flank-charged his beastmen
with the Warriors I knew I
had to break them that turn
or I was in trouble. When he
passed his leadership test
(I think on a 6), I was most
unhappy, as I knew his
Knights would flank charge
me. But I returned the favor
with interest, for my
Warriors kept passing their
break tests (rerolled thanks
to the BSB and counting down
from Buford’s leadership 10
– usually somewhere between
5 and 8). That massive scrum
ended up mostly as a draw,
though my Warriors did
capture the beastmen’s unit
standard and Buford (by
freakish luck) managed to
wipe out on pursuit not the
unit he had broken in his
fight, but the one his
nearby victory had panicked.
So I got more points than he
did for wiping out the poor
Slayers. By the way, I
highly recommend Slayers in
a battle like this –
unbreakable is like gold!
His
magic really let him down.
With a level 4 caster, and
level 2 caster, and Tzeentch-derived
10 or 11 power dice, he
should have been able to
overwhelm my 5 dispel dice
and 3 runes of spellbreaking.
But his spells were mostly
magic missiles, which went
silent once the herd was
stuck into close combat,
enabling my defenses to hold
nearly until the end (when
he blasted away half the
Thunderers with a big magic
missile after I burned my
last rune of spellbreaking;
I didn’t record this because
it had no effect on the
game). I reaffirm my
conviction that dispel
scrolls used aggressively
early are the key to saving
an army from magical
destruction.
Luck
did not dwell predominantly
on one side or the other
here. My opponent complained
occasionally of poor
hit/wound rolls when
attacking me in close
combat, and not without
justification, but this was
made up for (to my mind) by
his inability to fail any
leadership tests, despite
some shakey numbers, until
late in the game. My luck
was more distinguished by
lack of terrible rolls than
any excess of good ones.
That being said, a clutch
leadership roll by me at the
very end (on a 5 or less)
kept the Warriors alive, and
a horrendous flight roll by
my opponent meant a fleeing
Knight unit died – had these
rolls gone differently, the
result probably have been a
draw rather than a minor
victory for me. It would
still have counted as a
successful defense of my
title – but a much less
glorious one!]
Thus
endeth the sage of Snori
Whitebeard and his lord
Buford Bugman
(At least for now.)
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