Our shop has started an escalation league. It's starting at 500 points, and every two weeks it will jump up 500 points up till 2,000 points. Everyone gets 3 official games at each point range. We aren't allowed to use our normal tournament lists, and everything is to painted in at least 3 colors. I took this as a perfect inscentive to get my Word Bearers painted.
The first week was spent franticly painting. I finally finished my 3rd color on my defiler, and was immediately challenged by my little brother. I had helped him with his list, and he was 2-0 so far. Feeling cocky, he challenged me.
Dark Apostal Malakai, the Ascendant(Daemon Primce w/ wings, warp time)
5 CSM w/ plasma gun
5 CSM w/ plasma gun
Defiler w/ reaper autocannon, extra CC arm.
My Brothers list;
Daemon Prince w/ wings, mark of nurgle, warp time
5 plague marines w/ melta gun
5 plague marines w/ melta gun
The game had 4 objectives, 12 inch deployment. I won the roll off and deployed first. There was ample terrain for both of us, and a tall bunker in the middle that blocked line of sight. I deployed everything in cover. My brother did like wise, then promptly siezed the initiative.
In homage to the Sanity Assassin's great reports;
Dark Apostle Malakai the Ascendant was the first to set foot upon the ferral world. He cared little for any dangers that might inhabit this planet, for what could be more fearsome than the Dark Apostle himself? He was a hulking, towering monstrosity. Blessed beyond measure by the true gods, he had gone through the metamophosis into a warp entity. Immortal, and immeasurably powerful, he had little to fear from the local flora and fauna. His skin had torn away during the transformation, exposing oily, raw muscle underneath, the color of blood and bruised flesh. The muscles of his enourmous frame were corded and stronger than steel. Two great leathery wings sprouted from his powerful shoulders, and each limb ended in razor sharp claws that could score metal with ease. His head had sprouted horns and his eyes shown with an inner, golden flame. Truly he was perfection, something to which all men must aspire to.
Behind him, the transport finished unloading. Two small squads of his men quickly disembarked, and immediately set about securing the perimiter with the efficiency and precision of life time soldiers. Indeed, his men had fought in countless wars, from a time beyond legend. They had once tamed the stars in the name of the False Emperor, and then had brought war to his very door step. No finer warriors could be found anywhere, he thought with justifiable pride. Lastly off the transport came a blessed daemon engine. The defiler was even larger than the Dark Apostle himself, and nearly as intimidating. It looked almost like some giant mechanical crustation, 6 armored limbs bristling with claws and blades, and it's armored torso bristled with weapons. All this was just crude metal, a mechanical shell. What truly made it dangerous was the daemon bound within it, giving it a malicious intelligence, and empowering it with a hellish fury. The Defiler would provide formidible fire support, while it's many limbs would not get bogged down in the rough and wild terrain like thier tanks and armor would. With the last of it's cargo deployed, the transport took off, and returned to the ship. With quick final preparations, the Word Bearers set about thier task.
It had started weeks ago. The Dark Apostle had been deep in meditation when he felt a disturbance. It was a clarion call. A burst of pure psychic resonance that penatrated his senses, and beckoned to him. Feeling the hands of the true gods at work, he resolved to answer the call. His forces gathered quickly, and his ship "The Illuminator" was soon sailing through the warp at full speed. They had tracked the disturbance to a nebula that had until recently been wracked with untraversable warp eddies. Now the path was clear, and their destination was revealed to be a ferral jungle world. The Dark Apostle decided to lead a small expedition force to investigate the disturbance.
They had trecked for hours through the jungle, pulled by a beacon that only the Dark Apostle could sense. Finally they encountered ruins of an ancient civilisation. It apeared to be the remains of a fairly advanced race, though it must have been abandoned for centuries. Through the wreckage, the Dark Apostle's witch sight saw several strange sculptures that were rich with warp energies. These weren't the source of the call, but were a prize to be studied none the less.
As the Dark Apostle was about to secure the ruins, he realized that they were not alone. Across from them, on the other side of the ruin, he could see several power armored figures. Unlike his Word Bearers, these marines were bloated and disfigured. Their armor may have been white once, but seemed to be rotting and weeping pus. The Dark Apostle's hawk like eyes spotted thier iconography. Deathguard, followers of Nurgle, god of disease and rot. They were led by a daemon prince as well, though unlike the Dark Apostle's sleek and perfected form, he was a writhing mass of disease and corruption. His skin pocked with sores and oozeing pus and other fluids. Trailing behind them was an obliterator. A dangerous fusion of man, machine, and daemon.
Though they were a brother traitor legion, this did not make them allies. They had obviously heard the call as well, and there was no telling how they would react to thier presence. The Dark Apostle quietly Ordered his men to take up position, in preparation for the worst.
He moved up his daemon Prince and one squad of plague marines, leaving the second to claim an objective. His obliterator shot at my defiler, but I made my cover save.
On my turn I advanced my daemon prince and managed to wound his obliterator with my defiler.
Perhaps it was a glint of sunlight off of burnished armor. Perhaps their scanners detected them. Or maybe it was the petranatural senses of the Daemon Prince it's self, but some how or other the Deathguard became aware of their presence. Without hesitation or a word of parley, the Daemon Prince ordered his men to attack. Lascannon fire streaked across the ruins at the Defiler, who answered with return fire of it's own. Dark Apostle Malakai ordered his men to attack, and advanced toward his foes.
He advances his plague marines further forward. The daemon prince advances, flying over terrain. His obliterator fires again at my defiler, but fails to do anything. His daemon prince attacked mine. We both had warp time up, and each ended up with one wound a piece.
On my turn my defiler fails to wound the obliterator. In combat, my brother had failed his warptime roll, and my prince pulled ahead in combat.
Near the center of the ruins, with cannon fire streaking past them, the two Daemon Princes found each other. The Scion of Mortarion struck first, and barreled into the Dark Apostle. Though he was loath to admit it, the Dark Apostle knew that his opponent had the advantage. Not only did he have the momentum, but the blessings of Nurgle made his bloated flesh more difficult to wound solidly. Never the less, he faced his adversary head on. Both their blows guided and powered by the warp. Blade clashed against blade, claws sparked against armor. Both foes were evenly matched. And then the whims of the chaos gods struck. The blessings of the true gods fled from the champion of Nurgle. With his toothy maw forming a savage grin, the Dark Apostle siezed his advantage.
His plague marines continue to march toward the objective. His obliterator lands a penatrating hit on my defiler, but it is a crew stunned, which does nothing thanks to demonic possession. My Prince kills his in combat.
On my turn I fly my prince toward the plague marines, and move up one squad toward the plague marines. Shooting, my defiler fails to wound the obliterator, my marines rapid fire the plague marines, but the plasma gunner kills himself. The Daemon prince fails his difficult terrain test and doesn't get to assault.
The thunder of weapons was momentarily drowned out by a savage roar of triumph. Dark Apostle Malakai stood over his vanquished foe and gave praise to the gods. His and his rivals blood made a perfect sacrifice to Korne. The thrill of combat and the joy of victory a fitting tribute to Slaanesh. The death of his minion, a gift to Nurgle. But most of all, praise to Tzeentch, for withdrawing his enemy's sorcerous gifts, and granting him victory. With a fang filled grin, he set off to find more blood to spill
Again, his obliterator doesn't do anything to my defiler. My prince is gunned down by the melta and bolter fire from the plague marines.
My turn I run my marines to claim the objective. I blast the plague marines with my defiler, but he goes to ground and only loses one.
Laughing, and savoring the kill to come, the Dark Apostle alighted near the vanguard unit of Deathguard. His roar of challenge would have stopped the hearts of mortal men. But these were marines, veterans of centuries of warfare. They had seen the true terrors of the galaxy, and lived to tell the tale. They calmly focused their fire, and a melta blast punched through his armor and cautorized a gapping whole in his chest. The Dark Apostle collapsed with a noisess scream
I pass my cover save with my defiler. His plague marines get back up, and kill a marine with thier shooting.
My turn, my defiler scatters with his battle cannon on the plague marines. Rest of the shooting kills one.
In summary, his plague marines assault my marine squad, and they stay in combat. His obliterator and my defiler continue our long range duel to no effect.
Game ends with 1 objective each, 1 contested. A draw. We each lost our daemon princes, and a couple individual troops.
With their leadership defeated, both sides valiently attempt to claim the contested objective, but the battle is inconclusive. Eventually both sides are ordered to withdraw, each retaining one sculture to take and study. With the Defiler and Obliterator providing cover fire, both sides withdrew into the jungle
Thoughts? I got lucky. First that his obliterator failed to do anything, and that my Prince won in assault. I should have advanced my defiler though, as it probably could have killed the plague marines in assault. I was scared of thier melta though. Over all I thought that it was a great game, and I'm impressed with my Brothers list.
My Brother finishes round 1 with two wins and a draw. I'll see if I can match it in my next two games.
As his chest wound began to finally knit together, the Dark Apostle rose and spit up large chunks of gore. He had been careless. He had allowed his blood lust to get the better of him, and had paid the price in pain. Of his rival, there was no sign. Perhaps he had been banished back to the warp, or had been healed as well. A vox signal later, and he had soon found his men and their prize. Perhaps it would shed some light as to why the gods had called him here