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Pawn of Decay
06-08-2010, 08:42
At our local gaming club 12 of us are embarking on a Campaign to start up new Fantasy armies for 8th Ed, learning the rules etc. and having a bit of a laugh. As part of this, we each have to come up with our own background for our General (ourselves essentially), whilst keeping a log of what happens.

As part of the Campaign each of our Characters got a free roll on the WoC Eye of the Gods table for our general, and each of us being able to increase that for each character/large target we kill in a challenge.

After our first week's worth of Battles, each of us facing two enemies we have had some intresting things happen so far. For instance our resident Dwarf out to earn his beard seems to constantly be under such a drunken state that he Causes Terror... (good old eye of the gods).

Anyway the first week started at 500pts. The lists we all came up with were fairly balanced and theme'd to suit the style of the campaign.

My List consisted of:

Khasra the Learned One: 120pts
- Level 1
- Lore of Fire
- Spell Familiar
- Conjoined Homunculus
[The Eye of the Gods granted him +1 Toughness]

The Tumen: 224pts
- 11 Warriors
- Mark of Nurgle
- Hand Weapon and Shield
- Champion
- Musician

Young Wolves: 120pts
- 6 Marauder Horsemen
- Mark of Khorne
- Flails

The Fanged Pack: 36pts
- 6 Chaos Warhounds

Khasra was born to a Northern Tribe on the outskirts of the Chaos Wastes. His Father, a clan chieftan, was a very devout man. He worshipped the Chaos Gods and had many gifts from his Patrons. His Shaman (Rehurik) was a power Sorcerer and follower of the Changer of ways and had blessed the Chieftan with predicting his second son was to become greater than even himself.

On the night Khasra was born the winds were wild, the cold seeped in from the mountains and lightning struck from the sky. The screams of the Chieftans wife echoed throughout the tribe until suddenly all was still. Khasra was a hard birth on his mother, almost killing her in the process, yet when he cam into the world everything went still and quiet. The Chieftan picked up his son and gasped, shocked and disturbed by his appearence.

Khasra was not like you or me. His face showed no Features, no eyes that humans could see, nor mouth, nose or ears. Rehurik smiled at the child and announced that he had been touched by the Changer of Ways, that the childs deformaty was a blessing to the tribe.

As a child Khasra had a hard life. His gift made the other children shun him, picking on him at every stage, beating him and making jokes of his appearence. The way the other children behaved around Khasra enfuriated his father, but he knew better than anyone that respect had to be earned.

Khasra'a older brother Bektar was the worst of the bully's. He saw his brother as a freak, not worthy of the Gods, and endevured to make sure he knew it. Sadly the other children had no idea what they were doing. Khasra felt no anger nor pain at the other childrens behaviour. He was stronger than that. When the other children were out fighting and hunting, he stayed behind, reading books and learning the ways of the Gods.

Whilst his father was proud of how Khasra handled things, and was in awe of his sons growing abilities, he was dissappointed that he was not the warrior that would earn a place at the side of the Gods. With this growing dissappointment Rehurik had been whispering into his Chieftans ear, pursuading him to send Khasra out into the Wastes. To make a man of him.

On Khasra's 16th birthday he had grown into a strong young man, shunned by his brother, but quietly confident in what he had always learned. His gifts granted to him by the Changer of ways had enhanced his ability to see the flow of the Magic surrounding him. His fingues pulsed with the power of Chaos making him a formidle youth to look upon.

His Father had essembled a small force and gave it to Khasra for his birthday. 11 of his own Personal Guard. Veteran Warriors blessed by the God Nurgle, equiped with the best gear the tribe had. Along with these he was given 6 head Strong Youths who had started to stumble along the path of Khorne. These Youths were given horses to act as a forward party for Khasra's expedition. Along with these warriors Khasra was given 6 of his Fathers own Warhounds. Powerful Dogs able to tear limbs of a grown man.

With this force Khasra was ushered out of the camp he had grew up in to follow the path of the gods. To become the Man his Dad had always wanted for his son...

Pawn of Decay
06-08-2010, 09:21
Game 1:

Khasra had walked for many miles, his small army marching without complaint in the chilled winds of the mountains. He looked around, breathing heavily as the sun set and the darkness of night came rushing in. The Young Wolves were sent out to hunt for the evening meal as fires were lit and the camp set up.

Whilst Khasra felt the shame his father had for him he had learned to hid his frustration and tried to learn from the example his father had always set for him. During the trek into the wastes he had talked to the grisseld veterans his father had gifted to him, making sure he knew the men that were there to protect and fight for him.

The Champion was called Tousedin, a strong young man with many scars and honours from fighting with the tribe. His skin had a green palour to it, with a stench of rotting dead, prooving he was a truly blessed warrior favoured by the God name Nurgle. Khasra had been learning with Tousedin at the Camps each night. Training with sword to not dissapoint when the fighting happened, knowing full well the flow of Magic was dangerous and could not relied upon.

As the night grew on Khasra felt the Dogs stir before they came alert themselves. Someone was comming. Growling a command Tousedin had his Warriors alert and ready, moving efortlessly to the defencive formation they always knew. The Young Wolves burst into the clearing and Khasra let out a sigh.

"My Lord. We have some grave news". The Young Wolves had discovered they weren't the only ones in the area. The Dreaded Druchii were also a foot. Khasra's scouts had noticed a Young Druchii nobel crossing the plains at the foot of the Mountain... This was what they were here for.

The Dark Elf List: 500pts

Dark Elf Master
- Weapon at always Str 6.

Repeater Crossbowmen [10]

Repeater Crossbowmen [10]

Witch Elves [14]
- Unit Champion

Khasra possistioned his force with care. The Young Wolves riding ahead as a Vanguard moving into possistion near an archane ruin ready to suprise the Druchii. His Warriors moved into place around him as the Dogs moved close by growling, waiting to be set loose.

Turn 1:

Khasra waited patiently, wondering what the Druchii's first move would be. Trying to out think this spindly elf.

Before Khasra could do anything the Druchii attacked. Cross Bows blotted out the little light the moon gave off as they hammered toward Khasra and Tousedin's warriors. The Elves however must have rushed in their eagerness to fell the Warriors as not 1 Bolt reached them.

A Shriek sounded out making Khasra turn as the Witch Elves appeared from out ofview shrieking and running into the Young Wolves. Khasra smiled as he saw the rocky Mountain ground had aided his cause, laughing to see 6 of the Elves fall and trip, never to get up again.

His pleasure was short lived however as the Elves tore into the Young Wolves hacking and prancing as they danced around, throwing the horsemen to the ground, stabbing and kicking. The Young Wolves were over whelmed and in awe, with half their number close to death they ran, not able to contain their fear.

Khasra was furious. Unable to understand how the blood drenched whores had effected his army so much he reached for the flow of magic around him. The Dogs sensing the change in their masters mood, bounded off towards the crossbowmen, wanting nothing more than to tear and rend as they go.

Tousedin moved the warriors up with their Lord as Khasra's appearence changed subtly. His witch touched sight flamed as Khasra Roared. A skull formed as he chanted and moved his hound in the incantation. Tousedin cowered back slightly as the skull roared to life, flaming so bright he couldn't look at it.

Khasra struggled to contain the Magic as he flew the flaming skull at his foe, strugglign to contain his joy as he saw the skull rip through two of the Witch elves felling a lone Crossbowman behind. Forgetting the danger it possed, kinetic energy rippled out of Khasra knocking three of his own warriors to the ground in agony.

Unaware of his surroundings, his mind set completley on the distruction of the Witch elves, Khasra launched fire balls in the Direction of them. He poured the magic into the air as fire rippled from his hands, pushing in all directions, blinding him and his warriors as it soured around them.

With the fire dying down Khasra was pleased to see the Witch Elves no longer stood there. Ash was all that remained of the sikly whores.

Shuddering and shaking, Khasra realised he had not been concentrating. Raw Power flew out of him dashing his warriors to the Ground. Only Tousedin remained standing as all the power Khasra possed fled from him as he blacked out...


Yes sadly the game only lasted 1 turn :( it was however brilliant fun and a joy to play. The witch elves were devistating as they wiped the marauder horsemen out, leaving none to attack back. Tom did suffer a bit however as he had killed half his own unit to the dangerous terrain checks from rushing through the Archane ruin.

However he was very soon the one laughing at the Dice Gods fickleness. Khasra was a little to powerful at casting Magic. Burning Head went off Irresistable causing little damage to the dark elves, however after the roll of a 5 the small blast template at Str10 Killed 3 of my Warriors :(

And it just got worse... Casting Fireball at the tear 3 level Khasra again poured his will into the dice and another irresistable. The 3 D6 absolutly desimated the remaining Witch Elves, sadly the Miss Cast table was not on my side as i rolled 3. The Large Blast template killed all the Warriors minus the Unit Champion. After being hit with 2 Str 10 hits my Sorcerer was still on full found (Yay 1's)... Sadly a third 1 in a row for him saw him dissapear to the Chaos Realm letting me conceded the game.

1 Chaos Warrior and 6 Dogs just wasn't going to cut it...

Pawn of Decay
06-08-2010, 11:22
Game 2

Khasra awakened to Tousedin standing over him growling in anger. Confused, his memory blurred Khasra was unable to comprehend the anger cantered towards him. Tousedin slapped him hard, his features rippling as rage welled up inside. The rage burned through the fogginess and Khasra remembered.

“What happened Tousedin”. The Champion shook with anger as he recalled the fight with the Druchii. Khasra realised what had happened. He had let his anger get the better of him and the concentration so vital when controlling the winds of magic had been destroyed.

All around Khasra his men were shacking themselves loose. Burning off the pain from the release of magic. The Young Wolves stood to one side, ashamed of how easily they were beaten by the Druchii women. Khasra didn’t blame them. This was all new for them all and he controlled his own shame deep inside.

Suddenly the Dogs whined and cowered. Deep thumping sounds echoed through the valley, the sound of an army on the march clear for them all to hear. The smell of blood and death had called them. They had come to finish off the job.

Daemons…

Daemon List: [500pts]

Herald of Khorne
- Armour of Khorne

Blood Letters [34]

Turn 1:

Khasra reacted with out thought. Shouting at Tousedin, he marshalled the warriors in formation. The Young Wolves ran to their mounts and at the command of their master the dogs raced forward to slow the daemons of death down.

Feeling sluggish from the previous battle the flow of magic felt weak and he strained to grasp it. However Khasra was gifted beyond the level of your average mage. Unleashing his fire magic again, steaming balls of flames erupted out from fingers rippling towards the advancing enemy.

The Blood letters screeched in pain as 10 of them dropped to the ground, flickering and fading out of the realm of man.

The Herald of Khorne shrugged off the losses screaming defiantly as his force Marshalled on.


Turn 2:

The Young Wolves stared at the chosen Daemons of Khorne in lust. Sensing the prowess of the killers, relishing the chance to get to grips with them. As the blood lust took hold of the Young Wolves, even Khasra shouting at them, trying to rein them in did nothing to keep them back.

The Dogs bounded after the Young Wolves relishing the chance to get stuck in whilst Khasra moved Tousedin’s warriors into position.

The Horsemen Crashed into the front ranks of the Daemons swinging flails around their heads, feeling the blood lust lending to their frenzy. The Daemonic Herald however was quicker and before Khasra’s men could let loose two of them were cut down from their mounts. Reeling in anger three of the wolves countered bashing the Herald to the ground, only his Daemonic essence keeping him in the realm of men. The Blood letters hacked down feeling mounts, knocking the Young Wolves down, crushing into them with ease.

Their will broken the Young Wolves fled, the Herald of Khorne keeping his Blood letters in check and then carried on his march towards Khasra.


Turn 3:

Khasra glowered in frustration. Struggling to keep his force in check he growled at his dogs until they crouched down in front of the warriors barking at the Daemons moving towards them. Feeling the flow of magic buckling around him, with the aid of his conjoined homunculus he flew the raging balls of fire at the daemons again. His fury kept in check this time. Not making the same mistake again as another 6 of the daemons flickered out of existence.

The Herald of Khorne angry at the display of magic in front of him moved the remaining Blood letters to a run as they crashed into the Dogs, gifted to Khasra from his father.

Screeching in delight the herald and his fellow Daemons butchered the dogs with little effort as they crashed into Tousedin and the fellow warriors.


Turn 4:

Unable to wield his magic with the Daemons so close Khasra barked an angry command at Tousedin knowing that this was going to be close. Tousedin bound forward bellowing a Challenge to the mighty herald of Khorne.

With the Daemons Crashing against the warriors the Herald moved straight for Tousedin, excepting the challenge with relish, laughing at the mortal who dared challenge him. Tousedin however was steadfast in his resolve, using all his skill, speed and strength managed to dodge two of the blows, only managing to parry the last lightning attack with the barest margin.
Smiling inside his helmet Tousedin prayed to the God Nurgle as he launched a counter attack at the Herald. Caught unaware, amazed that the mortal was still alive, barely registered the Chaos Sword as it swung down crashing through his armour leaving him a blooded mess, fading back into the realm of Chaos.

Sadly Khasra and the others hadn’t fared so well with 3 of the Warriors being cut down and unable to even break through the defences of the Blood Letters. Out numbered from the furious charge Khasra ordered the retreat as the Warriors pushed back leaving the remaining Daemons to take skulls from the fallen.


This game lasted longer than the last one thankfully. However I still lost. At least this time it wasn’t due to destroying my own army. The Daemons were left with 18 on the field, the Herald dead. Sadly my entire force was either dead or had run.

Turn 1 saw the daemons too far away for a charge leaving Khasra to blast them with magic. Sadly only getting 4 power dice from the winds of magic I risked going for the 3D6 getting the spell off with a huge amount of damage to the Blood letters failing 10 of the 14 4+ ward saves.

Turn 2 had the marauder horsemen fail their leadership test and charged the Blood letters, with the Herald of Khorne surviving by passing 2 Ward saves out of 3.

Again the dice gods were against me only getting 5 power dice. I threw 3 into the 2 D6 Fireball using the conjoined homunculus to successfully cast it, then failing to cast the number 4 spell from the lore of fire with rolling a 1 and a 2 to cast on my remaining 2 dice.

The Unit Champion on turn 4 however was godlike as he passed a parry save to save himself after the herald of Khorne fluffed his dice rolls and then killed him in return. Sadly I failed my leadership test to stay in the fight and proceeded to run off the board.

Over all it was actually a fun game and was really good to see the magic work well.

Malorian
06-08-2010, 12:36
Intersting games so far, although I think you'll start having mroe fun once you get to higher levels and a single miscast doesn't wipe out 90% of your army ;)

zork rumpscratcha
07-08-2010, 16:39
love the fluff, keep it coming

Pawn of Decay
12-08-2010, 09:14
Week two of the Campaign is tonight. For this the stakes have risen and we have moved onto 1,000pts.

My list can be found here

http://www.warseer.com/forums/showthread.php?t=270447

if you would like to take a look. However I will be posting the next set of battle reports up tomorrow. Before then though, this is the next set of fluff for my army.

Hope you enjoy.

Tousedin hadn’t seen his young lord show his emotions so clearly before now. Having run from the Daemons of Khorne, Khasra had started to shimmer, his featureless face morphing into a mask of rage and agony. Tousedin could see the Changer of Ways influence in Khasra and was worried, for everyone knows the Changer of Ways was fickle in his gifts to those few mortals that failed to escape his notice.

‘Tousedin. It is clear that something has to change. We need a stronger fighting force. For that to happen it is clear that I need to leave you in charge. I have heard whispers of power and I must seek this for myself. Do not shame me Tousedin.’

* * * * * * * * * *

Khasra let out a snarl of guttural sound and watched as the fanged moved from their slumber to their master’s side. With out looking back Khasra left his small force in his champions command. The voices had come during the battle, whispers of promise and power. Khasra had always longed for the power and command, which would show those who had bullied him in his youth he was not to be reckoned with. His featureless face had always aided him in masking his emotions. Knowing that to show weakness or hunger would have doomed him long before now.

The wind howled and the rain thundered from the sky. Bright forks of lightning, like twisted fingers of the gods, flashed from the sky illuminating the craggy side of the mountains. The dogs kept their calm as Khasra felt the presence of magic increase, the pressure like the oceans writhing in agony. Rounding the corner of the narrow track a ruin of beauty glowed eerily in the darkness of the wastes. Whispers of light streaming through the muggy ground commanding his attention.

Letting a rare smile meet his face Khasra moved closer, feeling the power seeping into the air. As he moved closer a clap of thunder echoed from behind, crashing through the silence of the closing night. Ignoring the noise Khasra reaches the edge of the ruins as a second clap of thunder, louder and far more dangerous than the first roars across the mountains. Turning in shock he soon realises his mistake. The giant echoing noises which Khasra assumed was thunder was nothing of the kind.

The dogs howled and barked as a Chaos Giant filled the horizon. Bellowing in response, the giant races across the jagged path, keen to get his hands on his next meal. With instinct Khasra didn’t know he possessed, he called on the winds of magic letting go a ripple of fire, aimed at the giants head.

The Giant let out an awful scream as his face burned from the other worldly flames. Roaring in pain the Giant swings his club at the cause of his distress knocking a huge chunk of masonry from the crumbling ruin. With the load bellowing and large stamping feet, Khasra had to keep on his toes to avoid being squashed or beaten. Moving quickly he see’s one of his dogs get stepped on as he mumbles another incantation letting a ball of fire rocket towards the Giant once more.

As pain clouds the Giants purpose of protecting the ruin he feels the dizziness come over him. The Giant topples to the ground leaving Khasra in amazement as two more of his precious dogs are crushed. Easing out from behind the ruins carefully, Khasra watches the Giant as it sits there nursing its burns, sobbing to itself.
‘Giant, there is no need for pain. Can I come and sit with you? Perhaps we could become friends?’ The Giant, on hearing Khasra’s words, perks his head up. The sobbing stopped. He had never had a friend before. Confused as to why the piece of food wanted to be his friend he stayed where he was. Quietly waiting to see what happens next.

‘Friends of mine will become great Giant. You will never go hungry again, if you follow me.’ The Giant pleased with the promise of food smiled and nodded to the small man. Khasra relieved and pleased with his cunning offered the Giant his dead dogs as food, leaving him to his feast as he delved into the ruin.

Following the eerie glow back to the source, Khasra is mystified with the crude drawings on the walls. Power flowing through the drawings leaves him no option but to believe the ruins once belonged to a very powerful sorcerer. Khasra’s mage sight flickered in and out of the realm of man, daemons clawing at the edge of his vision, as he stumbles into the centre of the ruin.

The room at the ruins centre writhers like maggots, the glowing light seeping into the room from obtuse angles. Lying at the far end of the room is a broken alter, a cloth of blood red billowing over the edges, pouring onto the floor like the blood of a sacrifice. Moving closer Khasra hears a warning whispered into his mind, his hand reaches out to the alter as pain rips through his mind plunging him into Darkness.

* * * * * * * * * *

Tousedin grimly looked on over his lord’s force. Unprepared for Khasra leaving him in charge to increase their fighting force, whilst searching for means to increase his own power, Tousedin’s mood had grown sour. The prospect of the increased power pleased Tousedin, however he could feel himself changing. All of his warriors appeared to be changing.

The paleness of their skin had decreased, whilst the decaying flesh had started to heal. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing, the favour of Nurgle leaving their flesh. Tousedin had noticed his vision was also changing. The waves of magic starting to appear in his own eyes made him suspect that his lord’s patron god had something to do with it.

Over the week Khasra had left the warriors had fought a few small bands and had kept up pace not wanting the Daemons of the Blood God to catch up with them again. They had gathered food from hunts, whilst they looked for shelter, making a place for them to be secure at night. With the endless marching and fighting the Warriors under Tousedin’s command had grown stronger, fiercer with each passing day, each fight being relished until the next.

With the foul weather erupting across the mountainous landscape Tousedin noticed a small notch of caves as lightning lit up the sky. Smiling to himself he ordered the Young Wolves to scout out the area before them as the Tumeen drew their swords, readying them for any danger that may come their way.

Howling winds flew past Tousedin as they crept forward towards the caves. The silhouettes of the Young Wolves bleak and empty as if they had never existed. Careful not to slip, on the increasingly wet ground, Tousedin pauses as a piercing shriek screams through the night, engulfing the warriors in fear and lust. The Young Wolves pounce into action their flails in their hands, running towards the cave entrances.

Tousedin and the Warriors charge behind them, making sure there is no space between the two sections of his force for an enemy to expose. Breaking out of the blood curdling storm, lightning shattering the earth around them, Tousedin steps into the caves, bodies broken and left, half eaten covered the floor. Shocked at the sight he barks orders to the men, the warriors forming into a defensive circle, with the Young Wolves howling in anticipation at a fight.

A cumbersome growl echoes from inside the caves in reply, as 4 huge stomping figures creep from out of the darkness. A rotting stench filled Tousedin’s nose, further scaring him that his god was leaving him, as 4 Trolls thump into the vacant space, each holding a large club. The Trolls were disgusting in sight, teeth rotten and bloody sticking out, with vile scales half hanging off in some places. A fearsome sight to behold.

Bellowing a Challenge, the biggest troll, with arms as thick as the tree trunk he had carved and bashed into a club. Speaking in its foul tongue, Tousedin couldn’t understand the words, but the meaning was clear. Not pausing to think it through he broke into a run, pushing past his own men as he charged the troll down.

Moving with a speed Tousedin didn’t think was possible the troll dodged his down ward strike sending him sprawling to the floor with a swing of his backhand. Back on his feet within moments Tousedin swung his sword around just in time to parry a blow from its giant club, pushing him off balance. With the fight moving into a dance of danger and death, Tousedin noticed his vision changing; the magic of chaos could be seen seeping into the troll, a wound that had never healed.

Before he could capitalise on this new found knowledge the troll broke through his defences, landing a heavy blow of his club straight onto Tousedin’s chest. The troll let out a growl of pleasure as Khasra’s Champion was flung across the cave, hitting the wall with enough force to lodge rocks clear. On the edge of blacking out Tousedin could hear a voice whispering to him. The Changer of ways would save him, if he just let go.

Knowing all along that the fight with the troll should be his last Tousedin gave into the whispering lies of Tzeentch. Mage sight filled his vision as an aura of power flickered into being. Picking himself up, Tousedin stretched, smiling at the shock on the Troll’s ugly face. Not wanting to be out smarted by some small human, the Troll charged across the cave, swinging his club in an ark, powerful enough to remove Tousedin’s head.

However when the club landed, breaking rock and human remains alike, Tousedin wasn’t there. Laughing manically The Chaos Champion gripped his sword with both hands, feeling the ethereal fires of Tzeentch flow down his arms, encompassing the sword as it cleaved down. Tousedin’s aim was perfect as the point of the sword hammered down on the festering wound of the Troll, removing its head for good.

Silence rang out through the caves. The raging storm outside, reduced to nothing, smothered by the silence after the fight. Breathing heavily Tousedin looked over his warriors, smiling contently that the changes wracking his own body were mirrored in those of his followers. Their gifts from Nurgle, unrecognisable.

‘Praise Tzeentch!’ Tousedin bellows across the cave, his warriors taking up the chant. Laughing hysterically, scaring the Young Wolves, he points at the remaining 3 Trolls.

‘You fight for me now scum. And you shall be rewarded greatly.’

* * * * * * * * * *

Khasra walked slowly into the clearing. The prearranged meeting place inspired him with confidence in his choices since he had left the tribe. His new sight showed him the waves of magic swirling around area, a kaleidoscope of colour distracting him momentarily.

Power seeped from his frame, as he notices his Champion for the first time. Tousedin stands in the clearing, his Warriors behind him as the Young Wolves stay further back, ready to charge and wreak havoc is needed to. To the left of Tousedin are three hulking great Trolls, warped from the realm of chaos, but also looking ready to fight for Khasra’s champion if called upon.

‘You have done well Tousedin. I am pleased with what I see before me.’ Khasra lets his voice carry as if he has not a care in the world, yet ready on a knife edge in case his Champion betrays him.

‘My Lord.’ Tousedin drops to one knee bowing his head slightly as the Warriors behind follow suit. Khasra smiles internally as he notices the changes on his men. The Changer of Ways influence had reached his men as well as him. Feeling the gifts of his new Patron flowing through Khasra fiddles with the pendant around his neck, the new sword strapped tightly in its scabbard.

Before further talk Old Two-Horns walks into the clearing roaring a Challenge at the force laid before him. Khasra glares at the Giant, staring him into submission until he stands quietly at his master’s side.

‘Much has changed Tousedin. We have a lot to do.’

w3rm
14-08-2010, 05:03
I'm surprised youve gotten so few comments! This is really good stuff and top notch fluff!

Toshiro
14-08-2010, 07:32
Really good stuff pawn of decay, well written and interesting to read :)