View Full Version : The Secret of Chalons (My 2nd 8th Ed report!)

02-11-2010, 06:17
The Secret of Chalons

“This is not a good idea,” whispered Kellen, his wolf-like gaze darting around the shadows beneath the trees. “We should turn back.”

“Now that is a surprise,” said Roywan, nearby, between swigs from his flask of cider. “I thought the Grey Wolf feared nothing.”

“I fear little alive, stripling,” growled Kellen, turning his stare on the scarlet-haired wardancer, his own hand straying to the hilt of his elegant longsword beneath his flowing grey cloak. Safina the Treesinger rolled her eyes, remembering her sister once speaking of the rivalry between these two feral males.

“But this place is unnatural,” said Kellen the Grey Wolf, now appealing to her.

“The trail of the ghouls leads us here,” she said, pressing her hand against one of the cold, black tree trunks and understanding the Grey Wolf’s trepidation. “You would guide us this far then retreat?”

“We will never retreat, My fair Lady Carolyne!” said a voice. The three Asrai turned to see the armoured outline of Sir Edwin of Parravon atop his snorting destrier, his fellow Knights Errant trotting behind him. Peering down his nose at the outlandish Roywan and sparing Kellen only a hurried glance, Sir Edwin continued, “We will hunt down those foul fiends wherever it leads us, if it pleases My Lady Carolyne.”

Kellen looked between Safina and the Bretonnian knight, confused, but Safina answered the human with a smile, “Milord, it would make me feel safer if you and your gallant men were in the vanguard.”

The knights dutifully urged their barded steeds to enter the woods, and despite whinnies of complaint and several moments of defiance, the well-trained horses obeyed their masters. With ears pinned back and the whites of their eyes showing with fright, the horses carried the knights into the shadows.

“Why do you bring the humans?” Kellen said, wincing as the Bretonnians crashed through branches and hedges ahead. “They are annoying and they make so much noise.”

“They are valiant,” Safina replied, “and we may need them if it comes to battle.”

“Battle? In the woods? Against a bunch of skulking ghouls?” said Kellen.

Safina did not reply, but exchanged a look with Roywan, who also remained silent. Kellen laid a restraining hand upon her shoulder as she made to stride past him into the woods.

“I know why you are really here,” he whispered, “and it is not to hunt ghouls. You seek him.”

Safina glared at him and failed to stop the surprise showing on her face. Kellen continued, “I know this because I, too, have heard the same rumour.”

“If this is true, then you are here for the same reason!” said Safina, “I should have known our meeting on the way was not coincidence. Why do you counsel me to retreat now?”

“If he is here, this is not the way to do things,” Kellen said, gesturing to the knights. “We cannot just march into the Forest of Chalons. We must be patient.”

“But I just want to be sure,” said Safina. “I want to know.”

“And if you do find what you seek,” said Kellen, “Then what?”

“Then I will kill him,” said Safina, gritting her teeth, “For he killed my mother.”

Kellen sighed, “You are so young, treesinger. You do not understand his power, or his cunning.”

He looked at Roywan and said, “And you knew of this too?”

Roywan shrugged, “She made me promise not to tell Sarathai. If she knew she would be swooping in on her own right at this moment. At least this way we can find out one way or the other.” Roywan smiled at Kellen, a hint of mischief in his eyes. He said, “Come on old man; don’t you remember we slew minotaurs together on Albion?”

Safina added her voice, “Just think, if we could catch him unawares…”

Kellen glanced again at the frowning trees ahead. “The Forest of Chalons holds too many secrets,” he said. “You are being reckless, like your sister, and I will have no part in it.”

Kellen turned to leave, but this time Safina caught him with a touch. She said, “Alright. Let us just look, at least. I promise I will leave as soon as we know more, so that things can be planned; and that is a better promise than you will ever get from my sister. Please, Grey Wolf, will you help me?”

Kellen looked into her eyes for a moment, a feeling stirring. Then he looked away and snarled, “Do not try to beguile me with your spells! I am no simple human!”

“I didn’t!” protested Safina, “What do you mean?”

Kellen shook his head and muttered under his breath, “Perhaps I have walked for too long as a wolf, then.”

He turned back to her and said, “Call your scouts together.”

Safina smiled and signaled to her waiting escort of glade guards, hidden nearby. Together, the elves made ready to enter the woods. Kellen took a deep breath and said, “I just know I am going to regret this.”

* * *

Battle report: 1000 points VC vs WE

The Kindred of the Wild Heath:
Safina; spellsinger, level 2 magic
Kellen; noble, Alter kindred, shield, light armour, Sword of Might
10 GG; full command
10 GG; musician
6 Wild Riders; full command
5 Wardancers; musician, champion
3 Treekin

The Red Hunt:
Vampire; dreadknight
Necromancer; all 3 necromancy spells, Nightshroud
19 Skeleton warriors; spears, full command
20 Ghouls
10 Dire wolves
5 Fell bats
5 Black Knights; barding, full command, Banner of the Barrows

Hills in both deployment zones led to the valley effect in the middle.
Centre left; wood (poisoned)
Far left; swamp
Far right, towards VC end, damage wood
(So, fairly open centre)

Deployment (note the main feature of the battlefield was a large wood, centre left, which effectively split it into two zones):

WE, from left to right:
Far left, Wardancers
Inside left, Treekin
2 x 10 GG in the centre
Right flank, Wild Riders (ahem, allied Knights Errant)

VC, from left to right, looking from my end:
Far left, Fell Bats
Centre left, Black Knights with Vampire
Centre right, Dire Wolves
Inside right, Skeletons with Necromancer
Outside right, Ghouls

* * *

02-11-2010, 06:19
“It is too dark for this hour,” commented Sir Edwin, peering up at the gloomy sky. “Has dusk passed early? Where is the sun?”

Behind his knights, the wood elves emerged single file from the narrow crevice between walls of rock to witness the shrouded valley. A grey mist blanketed the lands, and even their elven eyes could only just make out the glowering, forbidding copses of trees. A trickling stream meandered through the flat-bottomed valley.

“This place has seen no sun for a long time,” Safina said, kneeling and touching the ground. “The trees are dead.”

She dared to raise her staff and project a little more wychlight from the jadestone at its top. The illumination was soon lost in the mists above, but it reflected from the ground, showing that unseasonal blankets of snow lay here and there. The elves and knights exchanged shivering looks with one another, their faces underlit with unearthly shadows.

“This is a place of the dead,” said Kellen. “Something still lingers, and hates, in those woods.”

“Why should we fear the forests, when the forests are our ally?” said Safina. She glanced to a small collection of trees nearby that Kellen could have sworn were not there a moment ago. “The ancient ones walk with us,” she reassured him.

At that moment, a blast of noise, like that from a great hunting horn, roared across the heavens. The horses screamed and the elves froze. Safina had never heard such an otherworldly sound, not since she had once witnessed Orion’s Wild Hunt pass her by as a child.

“That’s it,” said Kellen, overcoming his shock the fastest. “We have come too far. It’s time to go.”

“Yes,” said Safina, turning back towards the crevice, “I think I finally agree with you.”

But the elves were startled when they looked back to the narrow entrance. Nothing but cold, solid rock stared back at them. Safina played her wychlight back and forth along the wall of rock that made the sheer side of the valley.

“The way is shut!” she cried out. “The forest has betrayed us!”

“A trap!” yelled Kellen, drawing his longsword.

The howling hornblast came again, and the Bretonnian knights’ horses stamped and whinnied.

“Look!” shouted Sir Edwin, “The fiends that attacked the village of Mayotte!”

Safina followed his gaze and indeed spotted the shuffling, stooping outlines of a horde of ghouls crossing the valley. Without further prompting, the knights galloped off towards the corpse-eating monsters.

“Sir Edwin! Wait!” Safina called after him, realising only now how rash the young knights could be.

“It’s too late,” Kellen growled at her, pointing across the valley. “Get your kinsmen to form up.”

Safina saw why, and her heart quailed. Appearing like wraiths in the grey gloom, ranks of skeletal warriors were emerging from the grey mist on the other side of the valley. They clutched rusting blades and cracked shields in bony hands, and a tattered banner hung limp from its mast.

Safina felt ice running through her veins as yet more visions of horror slowly appeared. These were horsemen, knights by the look of their armour and lances, but they rode on skeletal, insubstantial steeds, and their faces were skulls. The horn blow blasted a third time, and Safina felt her hands shaking, though it was not just for the icy wind that now raked across the valley.

She spotted him: The leader. He rode a towering warhorse with sweating black flanks up and down in front of his undead knights, as if inspecting them. With her wychsight, Safina could witness the aura of dark power that surrounded the creature. He was encased in thick plated armour the colour of blood. When he turned his face and gazed in her direction, she had to fight to move her body, her vision filling with the thought of the fangs in his mouth.

Roywan touched her on the shoulder, releasing her from the reverie, and jerking her back to her senses. The glade guard archers were hurriedly forming lines to face the oncoming nightmares.

“We’ll try to get round their flank,” Roywan said, gesturing to his party of war-painted warriors. Safina gave him a thankful look. She was painfully aware that she had led them into this, but the Wild Bear knew now was not the time for reproach.

The wardancers dashed away and Safina turned to face Kellen. She said, “Who is he?”

“They call him the Red Duke in Bretonnia,” Kellen growled back. “And now it comes to battle afterall.”

Turn 1.

Without further fanfare, the undead horde began its advance across the valley. The clanking footsteps and clattering of old armour in the eerie silence was if anything even more unnerving than the hunting horn. Safina shuddered as ghostly whispers brushed her ears on the chill wind.

Seeing the other skeleton warriors emerge from the mists, Sir Edwin called to his knights, “See there! The Red Duke rides again!”

But before the Bretonnians could arrest their charge down the right flank and redirect towards the centre, the mob of ghouls ahead surged forwards. The eyes of the knights widened, for it was as if unnatural magic had spirited the stooping fiends onwards. One moment they were afar, then after an eyeblink they were almost upon them.

Beside the black knights, a pack of slavering hounds appeared, and these eagerly bounded ahead of the undead nobles. Safina spotted that the fur of these beasts hung from their frames in rotten patches, and dried blood caked their flanks. Small, terrible red flames burned in their eyes.

The treesinger was about to order her kinsmen to fire at the dire canines when more tendrils of shadowy magic crept across the battlefield. She tried her best, projecting her own powers from the glimmering jadestone to intercept the gathering coils of evil energy, but in this place and against this foe, there was just too much sorcery to counter. Her nostrils filled with the dank stench of the dead.

Clawed hands burst from the cold ground, soon followed by juddering corpses and mindless, rotting faces. Many have been trapped in this place before, and died here, Safina realised, as zombies tore themselves from the turf and began shambling towards the alarmed elves.

“For My Lady,” Sir Edwin called, and when his men glanced at him, he quickly amended, “I mean for the Lady; The Lady of the Lake!”

The Bretonnian nobles spurred their mighty mounts and charged headlong into the groaning mass of ghouls, spearing the foremost with much practiced thrusts of their lances. Their warhorses kicked out, breaking bodies as they had been trained to do, but the knights were soon enveloped by the grasping, moaning mass of fiends.

Meanwhile, at the left flank, Roywan dashed forwards, his wardancers following. They were unusually quiet, glancing with hooded eyes at the nearby woods, where ominous shadows glared back. Roywan knew these were not the blessed tree spirits of Loren, and they did not enter.

The glade guards were forced to ignore the thundering of hooves from the charging black knights as well as the blood-hungry snarls of the approaching wolves. Instead, they struck down the zombies that shambled mindlessly towards them with their volleys of arrows, every missile finding its mark to split sinew and break bones. But as fast as the abominations were felled, more seemed to be pulling themselves from the ground.

02-11-2010, 06:19
Turn 2.

The black knights and their terrible crimson-armoured duke crossed the stream at the valley’s centre, their eye sockets burning with unnatural magic, catching up with the slavering direwolves as they raced towards the elves.

“We are lost!” Safina cried out as yet more zombies scrabbled clear of the frosted turf, gasping as her magical energies drained away in her efforts. She started shaking again as the pounding of the skeletal hooves vibrated through the snow-covered ground at her feet.

“Be strong, treefriend,” said a hoarse voice like a groaning wind. Safina looked across the side of the valley to see the treekin finally moving.

“I am sorry I led you here, My Lords,” she whimpered. “We are hunted and there is no escape.”

“Grummm, drummm! We’ll see who is hunted soon enough,” the treekin answered her as the great forest spirits strode forwards on thick tree trunk-like legs to face the oncoming black knights.

Away on the left flank, Roywan spied ominous winged silhouettes circling in the gloomy mists and called to his men, “Halt here and look to the skies.”

Turn 3.

Then from the fog great fell bats swept down upon the elven warriors. Flapping on huge leathery wings, the man-sized creatures blasted the wardancers with withering, disorientating screeches. Two elves were lifted from the turf by questing talons to be ripped apart in showers of blood. Roywan yelled his defiant reply and his men struck back, slicing open bellies and hacking through wings with lightning fast strikes from their blades.

In the centre, with bone-breaking crunches the black knights crashed into the advancing treekin. The ancient forest spirits roared their fury, but dark sorcery filled the skeletal knights with unnatural power. Their magical lances bit deep into wooden flesh, slicing off branch-like limbs and smashing sturdy iron-bark torsos.

Safina gasped with disbelief as she witnessed two of the mighty forest spirits crash down like felled trees. The last, howling like a storm wind, faced the blood-armoured vampire.

She could watch no longer as the direwolves bounded up the shallow slopes towards her and the glade guards. The stench of congealed blood assailed their nostrils as the monstrous canines, swelled with dark magic to unnatural size, closed for the kill. The wood elves were mercilessly accurate shots, though, and the entire first row of wolves fell with arrows in their eyes.

Holding their ground, moving with a quick precision that belied their panic, the elven archers produced more arrows from their quivers to cut down the last of the hunting undead canines, while Safina desperately fought an invisible battle with the currents of dark magic swirling and roaring through the valley.

In the centre of the valley, a lone figure cloaked in mysterious forest magic crept. In the gloom, one could not tell if an elf or a grizzled, grey-furred wolf was stalking.

Kellen scrutinised the regiment of skeleton warriors that marched behind their mounted undead nobles. He shook his head with disbelief as he spied a cloaked figure amongst their silently, menacingly, advancing ranks.

Gripping his elegant longsword, he howled to the darkness and charged at the skeletons. A fell warrior touched by the ancient magic of the world, Kellen the Grey Wolf flickered in and out of aspects, one moment a spirit wolf, the next a grey-haired vengeful elf. He ignored the mass of skeletons and bounded directly for the figure. Only at the last moment did he register that the shadowy silhouette seemed to be waiting for him.

When they came face to face, Kellen found his limbs locked by an unnatural magic that froze his movements. He snarled, “What sorcery is this?” as he fought to complete his deadly swing, his long blade trembling with the effort, the freezing chill creeping into his heart.

The figure laughed; a hateful, powerful guffaw, as his undying bodyguards stepped forwards and stabbed and sliced while Kellen was held helpless. His intricately sculpted armour of copper deflected the first blows, but as Kellen howled once more, this time from frustration, the undead soldiers struck him down and soon piled on top of him.

Turn 4.

Safina and her kinsmen stared wildly around, their faces pale and drawn, their eyes haunted by the horrors they were witnessing. The direwolves were done for, but unearthly moans and howls filled the night. Safina swayed, her last strength leaving her aching limbs, the jadestone atop her staff slowly fading in brightness. In her wychsight, all manner of shadows and tendrils and wraithlike shapes hovered around the battlefield; the manifestations of dark magic.

She glanced down the valley and spied the vampire, The Red Duke, confronting the last of the treekin. A moment’s terrifying realisation came to her: He is touched by evil magic, yes, but he is not the one calling forth the newly dead. Even as more zombies crawled from the ground nearby, their groans curdling her blood, she knew there was another foe slowly drowning her magical resistance.

Meanwhile, to the left flank, a desperate air-borne melee raged between the leaping wardancers and the screeching fell bats.

The last treekin lumbered towards the scarlet-armoured vampire, knowing that to smash down this fell enemy would be to destroy the undead army. The ancient forest spirits had ancient memories, and he knew this would be the last chance for the young treefriends.

But the Red Duke was a truly powerful foe, and quicker and skilful too. The treekin’s last blow glanced off his dragon-emblazoned shield as the vampire rammed his blade into the gaping hole that would be the treekin’s groaning mouth. The Red Duke roared his triumph, himself sounding like a blood-crazed wolf, as the tree spirit splintered and collapsed.

02-11-2010, 06:20
Turn 5.

Safina could not help a cry of despair leaving her lips. The last treekin collapsed, and with him so did the hopes of the wood elves. Just as the glade guard archers around her felled yet more of the inexhaustible zombies, out of the swirling mists an entire regiment of skeleton soldiers charged up the gently rising hillside towards them. Safina drew her dagger as her eyes locked with the hideously grinning skulls of their attackers.

Meanwhile, across the shallow valley, Sir Edwin and his knights sliced left and right, hacking their way through the ghouls that assailed them. Despite losing half their number to the grasping, poisonous claws of the fiends, the flower of Bretonnian chivalry bloomed in such adverse times. At last, after what seemed like grueling hours of fighting, the remnants of the stooping creatures slunk away from the fight in ones and twos, leaving the human knights to rally victorious about their tattered banner.

And far away to the left, Roywan cartwheeled and leapt high, his twin blades slashing silver streaks through the gloomy air. With a screech, a disemboweled fell bat flopped down to the frost hard ground. Roywan landed and spun, watching the shrouded sky. With a roar of triumph, he realised the last of the indefatigable creatures was slain. His war-cry was cut short, though, as he witnessed his fellow warriors lying all around, bleeding bright crimson patches of blood into the hungry soil. He was the last man standing.

The final volley of hissing arrows barely made a dent in the charging skeleton warriors, and those that did fall were quickly trampled by the untiring, clanking march of those coming behind. The glade guards drew their leaf-shaped swords and met the charge with skillful strikes. Yet within moments they were engulfed by the eerily silent enemy.

Her kinsmen dying around her, Safina witnessed a shadowy figure zoom towards her through the press of close combat, his insubstantial form propelled by some dark sorcery. Safina’s mouth went dry and she fought the urge to retch as the stench of death overcame her.

Turn 6.

The figure came face to face with Safina and her heart stopped. His face was white, haggard, with a long beard of dusty grey, but within those terrible eyes burned black fires. She beheld the face of undying power. Yet as she lunged with her dagger, black coils of magic, like sinister serpents, reached out from the billowing cloak of the figure to ensnare her arms. More of the tendrils looped around her legs and tightened, rooting her to the spot. Safina tried not to scream as she struggled helplessly, and the face of death leered close.

Then, in those glittering obsidian eyes, a hint of recognition. The figure paused.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or have you too mastered the art of necromancy?” came his voice; a deep, somber timbre, “I once killed you.”

Safina could only watch, wide eyed with horror as he reached a gnarled old hand to touch her face. The touch was icy cold. “Ah,” he said, “a daughter. How delightfully appropriate.”

Safina’s vision grew dim and faded away as the binding tendrils of dark magic squeezed the consciousness from her. Her last thought was of desperate hope, as she heard the horn of the Bretonnian knights calling the charge. But they were too late to save her from the enclosing darkness, filled with the mocking laughter of her captor.

Roywan dashed across the valley, the moans and shrieks of the dead filling his ears. He witnessed the black knights and their crimson armoured duke thunder towards the last regiment of glade guards, who scattered with panic; this battle had now turned into a sporting hunt.

A brief flicker of hope came to him as he saw the Bretonnians wrestling with a regiment of skeleton soldiers. But they, too, were finally overwhelmed and dragged from their terrified mounts to be buried beneath mobs of stabbing undead warriors.

Roywan scampered to and fro, panicked and wondering how he could escape the coming red hunt, when it would eventually come to him.

“Here Wild Bear!” Roywan heard a voice and turned. Hunched and bleeding, his armour spattered with dark stains and his cloak in tatters, Kellen beckoned to Roywan from a clump of thorny bushes. Roywan dashed to join him. He noticed that with his wounds, Kellen could not sustain himself as either elf of grey wolf, his visage flickering ephemerally between aspects.

“I found another passage,” Kellen growled. “We must leave this cursed place.”

* * *

“Sarathai?” Kellen limped, putting distance between himself and the Forest of Chalons, when he was confronted by the Red Hawk. Beyond her, Anra the great eagle settled on a craggy rise in the land, squinting towards the dark forest. “How did you come to be here?”

“Oakenthu let slip that my sister came this way with some of his forest spirit kin,” Sarathai said, also peering beyond Kellen towards the Forest of Chalons. “Have you seen her? What happened here?”

“The Red Duke rides! An army of the undead pursues,” said Roywan, gasping, catching up with Kellen. Sarathai rocked where she stood.

“Roywan? What are you doing here?” she said.

Roywan gulped. He said, “We just wanted to protect you, just find out if the rumour was true. Now it has all gone wrong!”

Sarathai’s eyes widened. She said, “Where is my sister?”

“The vampire has taken her,” Roywan wailed, but Kellen interrupted.

“It is worse,” said the Grey Wolf, “there is another. I have seen him, and he recognised Safina’s likeness.”

Sarathai took a step back, holding up a hand as if to ward off Kellen’s words. She shook her head and said, “No.”

“The Secret of Chalons is revealed,” said Kellen, stepping towards Sarathai as she retreated.

“No,” she repeated.

“It is true. Heinrich Kemmler stalks the lands once more, and now he has a new ally…”

The End... for now.

02-11-2010, 07:43
Awesome! More!

02-11-2010, 10:55
Thank you very much. It was fun to write, even if the result was not the best. :)

And speaking of results, onto the game review…

Gah! Murdered! If you were not paying attention, my wood elves got massacred this time. But then again, this is not such an unusual result for 8th, or indeed, 7th edition games :rolleyes:. So let’s have a look at what happened.

Firstly, and perhaps foremost, the Necromancy magic killed me. Despite agreeing to not using lord-level wizards, those multiple-cast spells were just too much for me, even with a +1 advantage with my spellsinger over his wizards. I faced the same problem every turn; use lots of dice to dispel early casting attempts and run out, or try and ration my dice and face early lock-out due to a failed dispel.

As you no doubt noticed, my opponent rolled well for what seemed like the whole game, and with units vanhels dancing everywhere and zombies springing up all the time, I really got slowly overwhelmed in what was quite an eerie, fluffy style. :eek:

But that was not all.

My flankers, the Wild Riders and Wardancers, were effectively nullified in this battle. The fell bats got the swoop on one side, and thanks to a first-turn danse macabre, the ghouls blocked out the riders and basically forced a charge to tar-pit them on the other. I’m starting to think it might be worthwhile to actually forego the vanguard move with them in future games.

Although I eventually prevailed on both flanks, due to step-up I suffered too many casualties, making both units too small to offer any more for the battle into the end-game.

So, the last hope was the treekin. Having performed excellently last battle, I was really hoping to smash his hammer with mine this time. I knew that despite things going badly elsewhere, if I could just kill the vampire, I might turn things around. However, it didn’t go my way. With magic lances and another danse macabre to ensure first strike hits, they all hit and wounded, and then my forest spirit and armour saves disappeared! The vampire finished the job off. I knew I should have taken a fourth treekin for that unit, but I wanted to squeeze in the Alter noble for wizard-assassination duty.

Meh, but that didn’t work either. I should have looked over my opponent’s list more carefully before the battle. When I charged with the Grey Wolf and he shouted out “NIGHTSHROUD!” with a big grin, I knew I was in for trouble. Wow. What a good bit of necromancer-protection kit that is! :eek: I knew if I challenged he would refuse and skulk off to safety in the rear, so I figured I’d try and weather the skeleton attacks to wreak my vengeance later. But, alas, with spears and some bad save-rolling from me, Kellen died before he could strike. :(

By the end, when he challenged Safina in the glade guards, I decided to take it just for fluffy fun, and to make sure my glade guards could get some hits in on the skeletons, in the forlorn hope they might survive long enough for the gallant riders to come to their rescue. Again, the dice didn’t go my way, and so the Red Duke and the Lichemaster scored a big win in the end.

I’m starting to miss my march-blocking now, as again, the black knights and direwolves seemed to come at me far too quickly, with the infantry not far behind. That famous wood elf archery just doesn’t have enough rounds to make a difference, it seems. :cries:

But no complaints. I shall retire to consider my options, and will soon face the dreaded undead again. Next, we are going for 1500 points…


02-11-2010, 12:54
Wonderful, wonderful stuff. I really appreciate the effort you put in your reports.
thanks a lot

02-11-2010, 12:58
I'm really enjoying your style of batreps Kurisawa, it makes everything come to life nicely. Much more enjoyable than the dry listing style of batreps. Kellen sounded awesome, nice touch to have him shifting between elf and wolf constantly, reminded me of some Mike Mignola Hellboy panels (which is always a good thing).

Looking forward to reading more, hope you have a bit more luck at 1500pts - i was tempted by Wood Elves for a new 8th ed army but just couldnt get a decent list sorted without splurging on large amounts of Eternal Guard.

Any thoughts on what you'll be doing with the list at 1500?

04-11-2010, 00:10
Wonderful, wonderful stuff. I really appreciate the effort you put in your reports.
thanks a lot

Thanks max. It was fun to write - I feel inspired by the new edition so far! :)


05-11-2010, 00:09
I'm really enjoying your style of batreps Kurisawa, it makes everything come to life nicely. Much more enjoyable than the dry listing style of batreps.

That's a very nice thing to say, thanks. I think the pure dice-roll explanation reports have their place, as some gamers want to see exactly what went on and get a more technical overview. Not for me, though. For me, this game is like a mass-roleplaying experience, and nothing without the story behind it.

Kellen sounded awesome, nice touch to have him shifting between elf and wolf constantly, reminded me of some Mike Mignola Hellboy panels (which is always a good thing).

Yes, he is a favourite creation. It's only hinted at in the armybook, and they were absent from the Guardians of the Forest BL novel that accompanied the new WE, but I kind of got the impression that Alters were shape-shifters.

Looking forward to reading more, hope you have a bit more luck at 1500pts - i was tempted by Wood Elves for a new 8th ed army but just couldnt get a decent list sorted without splurging on large amounts of Eternal Guard.

Any thoughts on what you'll be doing with the list at 1500?

MORE TREEKIN! :evilgrin:

Actually, I have a "standard" 1500pt list which includes 6 of the big boys, so we'll see how that does.

Thanks again for taking the time to read and reply.


Shadow Lord
05-11-2010, 13:38
Very very nice writing!! Keep it going. I do hope that you can get a bit better result in your next battle(s), tho VC's just become more vicious at higher point games...good luck!!

A big round of applause for sticking to your army, even if it has been crippled by the new edition!

06-11-2010, 18:26
I'll just chime in and agree with the rest here, good stuff all round!

A real massacre that, the red hunt indeed. Well there is always revenge

10-11-2010, 03:22
Very very nice writing!! Keep it going. I do hope that you can get a bit better result in your next battle(s), tho VC's just become more vicious at higher point games...good luck!!

A big round of applause for sticking to your army, even if it has been crippled by the new edition!

Cheers for reading and replying! I'm playing VC again very soon for a revenge match. :evilgrin:

And as for sticking with woodies, well, I'd be changing forever if I followed current power trends. Better to just play what I enjoy. ;)

[It's no accident Daemons and Dark Elves went from most difficult armies to play in 6th, to the superpowers in 7th. Powergamers! Realise YOU are being played by GW making you buy new armies all the time! :shifty:]


17-11-2010, 03:13
I'll just chime in and agree with the rest here, good stuff all round!

A real massacre that, the red hunt indeed. Well there is always revenge

Thank you Mr. Sins. Revenge was delayed a little :cries:... you can see the next rep on this board.

Thanks for taking the time to read and chime in! :)


12-12-2010, 04:04
Nice report dude. good job.

17-12-2010, 00:16
Nice report dude. good job.

Thanks Mr. Gee! The finale report (against VC!) is nearly finished. Watch this space. No, that space above, at the top of the forum. ;)