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Author Topic: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project  (Read 46784 times)

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #75 on: August 17, 2009, 07:45:26 PM »
Part 5 (Turns 5 & 6)

The War Elephant tried its best to run down Big Boss Dufdig, but the orc was nimble on his feet and ran out of its reach. The Crossbowmen on the hill who had just run from the Boar Riders rallied, reformed their ranks and re-spanned their bows. Maybe they could make a stand after all? The northern tribe archers, on the other hand, simply got on with the business of shooting and managed to stick an arrow or two into the goblin wolf chariot. They only really scratched it a bit. The handgunners up on the hill thought they might at least stop Big Boss Clubcra trundling away with his burden of loot, and shot a volley down at him. Once again, their skill (or perhaps the quality of their powder) proved deficient, for they could not harm him.


(Game Notes: Various other units, the swordsmen and the other crossbow detachment now slowed their attempts to cross the field. They couldn’t move quick enough to contribute to the fighting, and so the player got to thinking about table quarter VPs!)

Even though the mortar landed a grenado right on top of the Big Un boar riders it seemed the orcs and their ‘sangliers’ (as the Bretonni would say) were made of tough stuff. Not one was felled by the thunderous blast. War Boss BoneMawler was not so lucky as his Big Uns, nor as fast as his Big Boss. In fact all his luck ran out as he ran away. Finally realising that he could expect only death at the hands of an entire regiment of heavy camel cavalry and their prince, he turned to flee and was trampled to death by the enemy’s pursuit.
    The crew of the last surviving wolf chariot now whooped with glee as their war machine rolled into the midst of the Arabyan baggage. They couldn’t stuff loot into their chariot quick enough!


The Big Un boar riders, finally fully extricated from the rough ground, now tried a second charge at the recently rallied crossbowmen and this time smashed right into them. Nine Arabyans out of the ten died in the next moment, and the boars’ momentum carried them onwards and straight down into the baggage. More whoops of joy sounded, though these a little deeper in tone than the previous squeaky shouts of the goblins, and the while the boars began goring and feasting on camels, the Big Uns grabbed everything of value they could find.


Various other Greenskins were backing off now - knowing that their tribe had done what they had come here to do. Clubcra left in his chariot, while the wolf riders and Dufdig kept moving ahead of the foe. The crew of the war elephant were desperately trying to turn their beast to charge at the plundering wolf chariot, but they could not manage (Out of charge arc!). Instead they thought they might at least prevent Big Boss Erbad in his chariot reaching the baggage and swung the creature around to block him. Big Boss Dufdig was slowing down, chuffed to see that the elephant was no longer chasing him. He was out of breath, and stopped for a moment to work out what he could do next. He never did decide, because twenty archers sent a cloud of arrows his way to pierce him from head to toe. He was dead (from one that went into his eye) before he even hit the ground.
     Erbad was not going to let an elephant get in the way of his chance to get some loot. Not that he charged the elephant (he was not that daft) instead he just squeezed by it and trundled off into the baggage. (Game Notes: This was the fourth and final Greenskin unit to gain the scenario baggage VP - that’s 600 VP altogether.)


All the remaining arabs could do, scattered as they were across the valley, was watch in despair as greedy green hands robbed their baggage and disappeared off into the evening’s gloom.


The Army of Amon’s march south was going to prove a hungry one!

Result: 1060 VP to Greenskins. Solid Victory.

---------------------------------------------------------
Game Commentary

I played the Greenskins, though I did describe the army lists and scenario to my opponent and gave him the choice of which side to play. He picked the arabs. (Thanks Tom, btw, for an excellent game.)

You probably thought that the Arab deployment was odd, but Tom was trying to make me struggle to deploy appropriately by leaving his baggage placement until last, and several big gaps it could possibly fit in so I couldn’t guess. This way I was placing my units without knowing where their goal would be! The trouble is he was then left with those big gaps in his line, and units like the Black Swordsmen and Palace Spears were stuck right out on his right flank and unable to get into the battle. Also, I left my Orc units ‘til last so that they at least would be close to the baggage.

Oh, and you may have noticed I forget to do Waagh in nearly every game when I play Greenskins! It could have helped. Then again, it was a win so I shouldn’t complain.

PS: Do you think the scenario rules were valid? Balanced? Etc?
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Offline Timbor

  • Posts: 1535
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #76 on: August 17, 2009, 11:44:24 PM »
 :eusa_clap:
Well done on another inspirational installment!  I'm not too experienced at playing, but it seems like the orcs may have had an easy time plundering the army.  Maybe if they only got 100VP per unit that looted or something.  It seems like the mobility of the orcs gave them a big advantage for the scenario.  I guess that is also kinda fitting seeing as that looting was the orc's goal!

All in all, very well done!  It should make for some good storytelling in the rest of the campaign.   :::cheers:::

Tim
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason. - J.H.

Paint Log: link  Blog: My Life in Millimetres

Offline Von Kurst

  • Posts: 1415
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #77 on: August 18, 2009, 01:04:00 AM »
Great report!
I wouldn't sweat the balance issues.  One off campaign battles are hard to balance since only multiple games will reveal any flaws.  Player's actions become very important and the Empire player made some realistic mistakes.  The battle fits the story line and moves it forward.  Job's a good 'un!

Now if the Prince's BSB were mounted, it might have turned out differently...
“Why is the rum always gone?” -Captain Jack Sparrow
"It is, it is a glorious thing To be a Pirate King."
 -Gilbert, Sir W(illiam) S(chwenck)

Offline Uryens de Crux

  • Posts: 3740
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #78 on: August 18, 2009, 08:13:28 AM »
Maybe allowing the araby forces a single unit that can deploy anywhere to represent the colmumns flank protection?
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
The Free Company of Solland

The Barony of Wusterburg

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #79 on: August 21, 2009, 09:45:23 AM »
Aboard the Terrible Corsair
Nine miles upriver

Herman Gouma was getting annoyed.
     “I’ll have you know I’ve been seeing ‘em all morning,” he insisted, “and I won’t stand for you calling me a liar.”
     Stefanus wanted him to be wrong, and was now beginning to realise it was this urge that was making him disbelieve his friend.
     “I ain’t saying you’re not seeing something, just that it’s most likely some monkeys or lizards or some such creature.”
     “I know the walking dead when I see them. Besides, I recognised one of  ‘em.”
     Stefanus fell silent. Now he really wanted Herman to be wrong. “It just doesn’t make sense. I know we’re fighting the current and the tide, and I know the wind is against us and them that are on the oars are tired, but how could anything move through that tangle of green fast enough to keep up with us?”
     Herman rolled his eyes. “How can they move at all? They’re dead! But they do, so what’s a bit of jungle to them when they shouldn’t be walking at all?”
     “Give me the glass,” demanded Stefanus. “I’ll look for myself.”
     He rubbed the end with his shirt sleeve then placed the instrument up to his eye. First he saw just the river water, then the dense greenery came into view. Nothing.
     “There’s nothing I can see, not even monkeys. How many did …Wait! Wait a moment. Ho! I see something!”
     “Told you so,” muttered Herman.
     There was movement in amongst the leaves and vines, then suddenly a man stepped out almost into full view. His putrid flesh was an awful shade of green and his eyes stared blankly out while his mouth hung open. He wore a jerkin of leather over a torn shirt of linen. In his hand he clutched a pistol, which he suddenly lifted up to aim out at the Tabrizian fleet of smaller ships and boats making their way upriver. Then he stood, the pistol swaying about as if he was drunk, and gave every appearance of watching.


     “I see one, and I think another behind him.”
     “Is it Kurt?” asked Herman.
     Stefanus took the glass from his eye. “It was Kurt you saw?”
     “Aye, and he didn’t look too well.”
     Replacing the glass, Stefanus now began to move it along the river’s edge. More undead appeared, a whole bunch of them: one pointing a rusted blunderbuss, another with an arrow stuck right through his belly!


     “Manaan save us! They’re there alright, and umpteen of ‘em. I reckon the whole army is following us.”
      Then he saw another three, the two at the front just as green as the first he saw, but behind them, still wearing his blue head scarf, still clutching the huge bone he used as a club in fights and almost the same colour he had been when alive, was Kurt. They’d left him on the dunes with a cutlass thrust into his back and zombies scrambling over him. Now here he was following them.


     "I can see him now."
     “Do you think he’s changed sides, then?” said Herman.
     Stefanus was not in the mood for jests and asked, “D’you think we’ll end up like that?”
     “It’s not what I’ve got planned. I wants a proper share of the gold, then a fine time turning it into hot liquors while I play with the wenches in Tabriz, and in the end to be put in the ground, all nice and restful.”
     Stefanus listened absently to Herman’s words whilst scanning further along with the glass. Suddenly he gasped, a fearful chill coursing right through him as he saw the monstrous face of Grand Admiral Galdabash himself looking right at him!


     “Manaan and all the gods protect me!” he prayed as he whipped the glass from his eye. After gulping and steadying himself on the gunwhale, he handed the glass back.   
     “Here, Herman, you keep at if you want. I’m done with looking at the jungle.”
« Last Edit: August 21, 2009, 11:33:47 AM by Padre »
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Inarticulate

  • Posts: 1553
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #80 on: August 22, 2009, 01:08:22 PM »
 :eusa_clap: Excellent!

How much scenery do you have, Padre?
I for one welcome our new flying cat overlords.

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #81 on: August 23, 2009, 08:07:36 AM »
@ Inarticulate: Quite a bit. It's not what I'd call fancy, though. I went for quantity rather than quality.

There's to be a short lull now for a few days 'cos I have to work on the Bat Rep for the Border Princes (linked to the Solland effort) Ogres vs Dwarves Bat Rep I fought with Uryens yesterday. So, still doing a report, just not one for this particular thread!
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Inarticulate

  • Posts: 1553
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #82 on: August 23, 2009, 11:33:27 AM »
Padre, you are indeed the King of Battle Reports!
I for one welcome our new flying cat overlords.

Offline GamesPoet

  • Posts: 15116
  • Spring is here! : )
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #83 on: August 24, 2009, 02:03:32 AM »
I'll drink to that! :::cheers:::
"Not all who wander are lost ... " Tolkien

"The beauty of curiosity and creativity is so much more useful than the passion of fear." me

"... my old suggestion is forget it, take two aspirins and go paint" steveb

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #84 on: August 29, 2009, 08:30:30 AM »
And now a second short delay added to the first 'cos I'm off to be a 'real' (as in reenactment) buccaneer on Anglesey this weekend. I will have my own crew of scurvy scallywags to boss about, and apparently we're going to defeat some silly militia men who reckon they can take us on. Maybe I will be inspired by it all for the next part of this story?

Do any tribes of Pygmies live on Anglesey I wonder? That'd be just like what I intended next in 'All that Glistens'!
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Fandir Nightshade

  • Posts: 10067
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #85 on: September 01, 2009, 03:31:58 PM »
Than bring up the pygmy wenches!  :engel:

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #86 on: September 03, 2009, 08:55:51 PM »
Temple of the Living God Bo-Tana-Oon

The birds and monkeys had been behaving unusually for two days. Something in the air disturbed them, some smell or sound that only they could sense. They became quiet, still and watchful. This odd behaviour in turn had an effect on the pygmies - though their response was to become agitated and fearful and pray to their gods.
      One of their living gods, Bontanoan, pondered upon what all this might mean. Unlike the older generations of Slann, he did not ponder long - a minute or so was long enough for him. Being a larval Slann* sparkling thoughts danced about his young brain rather more quickly than an adult, perhaps because they were of a less deep and complicated nature. Not that he was infantile compared to the lesser races’ adult forms: he had some mastery of magic and considerable knowledge of many arts. It was more that what cleverness he had was nimble in form, and not lumbered by a great weight of knowledge garnered over centuries. Tehenhauin had a more instinctive intelligence than his aged father, and he was more in tune with the song of the jungle.
     At the end of his brief contemplation he decided there must be something new in the jungle nearby, something the birds and monkeys found disturbing, so he called for his two spawn brothers. His shrill, piercing cry could be heard for more than two miles and perhaps made the fauna even more nervous. He then waited, standing upon the huge stone dais that served as his temple, his only companions a handful of pygmy servants and guards.
     The pygmy chief Atta-ooga had to steel himself not to cover his ears as the living god Bo-Tana-Oon gave a cry like the brightly feathered Jallo birds, though much more powerful (of course). No magic was used in making the call, not that Atta-ooga could sense, nor was any animal horn or shell employed. His totem bearer flinched by his side, no doubt making the dried-bean filled skulls on the totem rattle - not than any of the pygmies could hear the sound over the heavenly screeching.
     The cry ended abruptly, not so the echo, but eventually there was silence. Not one beast, fowl nor crawling insect sullied its god-given potency. Then there was a new sound and Chief Atta-ooga felt a surge of anger at what he thought was irreverence, sacrilege even - until he realised it was made by the brother gods Ta-Dino-Po and Go-Akill-An. Of course they, and only they, had the right to impose themselves on Bo-Tana-Oon in such a manner. The two leapt lithely onto the dais then suddenly came to a halt to enter a stance so still that they appeared to have transformed in a flash into statues. This heavenly talent to instantly remove themselves from the world of motion, to enter a state in which time itself seemed to have no dominion over them, had always impressed Atta-ooga. It was considered a sacred trait, so much so that in the last season three children had been fed to the Salamanders for playing a game in which they mocked this very trait.
     Bontanoan greeted his two siblings with a blink of both eyes. Like them, he was garbed in ornate armour which to warm-bloods’ eyes looked to be fashioned of silver, but it was not so. Rather it was made of a beaten core of gold upon which mercury was made perpetually to shimmer and flow magically. In this way it looked as damp as the flesh of the larval Slann, and although it had nothing like the strength of steel armour (nor its magically distracting properties) it at least protected the thin and delicate larval skin from thorns and barbs, and sometimes the fluid surface deflected enemies’ blades, making them slide over the surface harmlessly.
     Bontanoan carried ceremonial daggers of obsidian, and a mace of gold silvered with mercury just like his armour. His sibling Tadinopo carried a staff topped with a sharp blade taken from a warm-blood (Tadinopo had always been fascinated in the warm bloods); while Goakitlan carried a mace that had once been born by a mighty lizard warrior in the age when Saurus and Skinks had dwelt in the jungle outside of his father’s city.


     “Something is close. Something the jungle fears,” announced Bontanoan.
     Tadinopo blinked his acknowledgement, while Goakitlan waited for more to be said.
     Bontanoan had known this was exactly how his siblings would respond. “I do not know what, but it is large or numerous enough to have a wide effect. And it is near the great river. We must learn its nature before it comes any closer to our father’s city.”
     Again the blink, this time from both siblings.
     “It is agreed, then. I shall go, and I will take the warriors of the Atta tribe with me. I will discover what it is that approaches.”
     Goakitlan beat his mace on his shield. “I will go with you, brother Bontanoan.”
     Tadinopo beat his staff on the stone ground. “Take the Olobol tribe also, then you will have sufficient force to attack whatever it is. This way they might be stopped from coming closer. I will warn our father, and will summon the warriors of the more distant tribes. If you fail, then whatever approaches will face yet another army when they arrive, and a third if they dare to come close to our father’s city.”
   
* Note: My ‘larval’ Slann are 1980’s Slann models and count as skink priests - exactly the same stats, points and abilities. Bontanoan and his two brothers, being recently spawned Slann are an incredible rarity. Their ‘father’ was forced by necessity to create them because he was the last surviving Slann for thousands of miles. He takes his role as guardian of the ancient city and its secrets very seriously - enough to do what was not only distasteful to him but something that is considered highly dubious behaviour by most Slann. 
« Last Edit: September 20, 2009, 09:09:28 AM by Padre »
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Uryens de Crux

  • Posts: 3740
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #87 on: September 03, 2009, 10:37:41 PM »
Nice

<sings>Now I'm the king of the swingers, Oh, the jungle VIP, I've reached the top and had to stop, And that's what botherin' me <walks off singing>
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
The Free Company of Solland

The Barony of Wusterburg

Offline Von Kurst

  • Posts: 1415
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #88 on: September 05, 2009, 06:58:26 PM »
Pygmies!  Who will they fight the pirates or the undead?
Will the Prince recover from the ambush?
“Why is the rum always gone?” -Captain Jack Sparrow
"It is, it is a glorious thing To be a Pirate King."
 -Gilbert, Sir W(illiam) S(chwenck)

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #89 on: September 06, 2009, 04:51:19 PM »
When Two Tribes go to War (the Atta and Olobol)

A 2035 pt ('counts as') Lizardman army (Pygmies & Larval Slann)

Bontanoan (as Tehenauin)
General, Tide of Serpents, Blade of Serpent's Tongue, Plaque of Sotek
Goakitlan (as Skink priest)
Lvl 2, Piranha Blade, Plaque of Tepok
Pygmy Shaman
(as Skink Priest)
Lvl 2,  Diadem of Power, Cloak of Feathers
Pygmy Chief (as Skink Chief)
Scimitar of the Sun Resplendent
--------------------------------------
25 Pygmies (as Skinks) with FC
20 Pygmy Skirmishers (as Skink Skirmishers), FC, Blowpipe
20 Pygmy Skirmishers (as Skink Skirmishers), FC, Blowpipe
22 Pygmy Dwarf Boar Riders (counts as Saurus Warriors), FC, spear, shield

4 Terradon Riders with Brave
3 Jungle Swarms
3 Jungle Swarms

3 Salamander Hunting Packs (4 handlers each)









Just need to arrange an opponent now! I could be playing either side in this one - I always give my opponent the choice when doing these things.
« Last Edit: September 19, 2009, 08:11:29 PM by Padre »
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Uryens de Crux

  • Posts: 3740
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #90 on: September 06, 2009, 07:13:18 PM »
If you can wait a week or so I'll play you
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
The Free Company of Solland

The Barony of Wusterburg

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #91 on: September 06, 2009, 07:27:46 PM »
Woo hoo! Can't wait. I suppose you thought my comment was an subtle ruse to get you to volunteer but no ... my brian is no way near that cunning or good at lateral thinking. I was just sitting here feeling sorry for myself!!

It'll be a fight in a swamp, but both armies are (mostly) aquatic. You get to be crazy pygmies or just as insane zombie pirates. What more can you ask for?

I'll just have to do more story in the meantime, or sneak an arab game in!
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Inarticulate

  • Posts: 1553
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #92 on: September 08, 2009, 10:34:30 AM »
Woo hoo! Can't wait. I suppose you thought my comment was an subtle ruse to get you to volunteer but no ... my brian is no way near that cunning or good at lateral thinking. I was just sitting here feeling sorry for myself!!

It'll be a fight in a swamp, but both armies are (mostly) aquatic. You get to be crazy pygmies or just as insane zombie pirates. What more can you ask for?

I'll just have to do more story in the meantime, or sneak an arab game in!

Poor Brian :(
I for one welcome our new flying cat overlords.

Offline Padre

  • Posts: 3384
Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #93 on: September 09, 2009, 04:25:18 PM »
Down the River

Herman and Stefan stood with the rest of the foremast men on the deck amidships deck, and like everyone else they were staring up at the poop deck where Captain Bart was clutching at mizzenmast and looking back down at them. A few moments of quiet passed - not complete silence, for the ship creaked and there were sounds from the other ships and boats nearby, but it was a soundlessness that was rare upon the Ocean Blight.



Finally the Captain spoke. Before the Battle of the Dunes he would have shouted, but now, wearing the whip lash scar from that battle down the left hand side of his face, with his eyes always wide and his complexion not what one could call healthy, he addressed them much more quietly. They all leaned forwards, straining to hear.
     “The ship ain’t goin’ much further up this river, and she certainly ain’t going through the swamp ahead. I say we leave her here, with a skelet …” Here the captain stopped a moment and frowned. It took a while for some of the slower thinkers amongst the crew to work out why, but when they heard the mutters of “Manaan protect us” and such like, and the general murmurs about cursing the ship, they eventually realised. No one wanted a skeleton crew on board!
     The Captain stroked the scar on his cheek and then went on, “I mean to say a guard crew. We’ll put a guard crew on her, and the rest of us can take the boats. We’ll put the pinnace together and take that and the towed boat. What say you?”
     “I ain’t going ashore to build no pinnace,” shouted one of those at the front of the crowd.
     Loud murmurs of agreement spread through the rest, as several of them could not help but glance once more at the shifting mangroves at the river’s edge to see once more the creeping presence of the undead - here a hat and a torn shirt, there a bloody face and a deathly grimace, and elsewhere clouds of buzzing flies or the rusty muzzle of an ill-kept handgun.
     The Bosun Jan Mostert stepped up by the side of the captain, his bald pate shining in the sun, golden earrings glinting and his massive, flared muzzle pistol couched on his hip. He wore no shirt, not having done so since the Battle of the Dunes, when he had stumbled and put his arm elbow deep into the swollen, foetid belly of a zombie, so fouling his shirt that he had torn it off and thrown it into the sea on his way back to the fleet. “There’s no need to go ashore,” he told them all, in a voice much more certain than the captain’s. “We can fit her together on the deck.”
     “That’s alright then, ain’t it?” said the fellow who had spoken up before.
     There were several ‘ayes’ amongst the crew, but all on the poop deck could tell that their usual boisterousness was absent.
     Stefanus cleared his throat nervously, and raised a hand. “I wants to speak.”
     The Quartermaster, Lisbeth Boone, furrowed her brow. “You do?”
      There was no answer, but she knew it was her place to run proceedings should council be called for. “ Then speak on, man,” she demanded, “for all have their say in this ship.”
     Stefanus glanced at Herman, who gestured with a nod to encourage him.
     “The Captain ain’t well. We all see that.” Nods and ayes of agreement rippled through the gathered crew. “I say that we ought to decide upon another captain, at least until he is well enough to lead us again.”
    All waited for the captain to speak, but he said nothing. Instead it was the Bosun who glared at Stefanus and shouted. “S’pose you have someone in mind?”
     “This ain’t a mutiny,” said Stefanus quickly, “and you know it. This is a call for a vote, to know the crew’s mind over that which plainly needs deciding.”
      Lisbeth drew her cutlass from its scabbard and pointed it at the men. “I say when there’s to be a vote when enough of you demand it.”



Herman was the first to respond. “We do demand it.” All those around him gave a loud ‘aye’.
     “Then as per the articles we shall have a vote,” said Lisbeth. “Are all present?”
      “Aye” came the cry from everyone on the main deck. Then a moment later came a cry of “Nay” from behind the Captain. It was the ship’s boy, little Adolfus Korpel.
     “Who’s missing?” the quartermaster asked.
     “Martin,” said the boy. “He’s below deck in his hammock. He ain’t yet recovered from his wound.”
      Lisbeth looked confused. “I thought he was dead.”
     “Not dead, no. He’s just badly. But I spoke to him this morning.”
     Spinning back round to face the crew, Lisbeth pointed her blade at Stefanus. “You want a vote, then you fetch him. And take Herman to help you carry him.”

The two of them stepped over to the hatch, then disappeared down into the darkness below.
     “Martin?” called Stefanus. “Where are you?”
     There was no answer.
     “You asleep?” said Herman quietly. Stefanus glanced at him as if he were mad. “What?” asked Herman. “I didn’t want to disturb him.” Then realisation dawned on him. He grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
     “You check starboard and I’ll look larboard.”
     It was Herman who found him first, and he called his mate over. The two of them then stood looking at the hammock. Martin was covered with a blanket, with only the back of his head showing because he was facing the hull.
    “Shake a leg, Martin” said Herman. “We’re voting on a Captain.”
    There was no movement in response. Apart from the slow swaying of the hammock from side to side, rocked by the gentle motion of the ship, there was no sign of life under the blanket. Martin did not appear even to be breathing. 
     “I think,” began Herman, “... well, you know … it was bad wound. You can smell how it festered. I reckon he’s …” He stopped suddenly, blanched, then stepped back. Stefanus did the same.
     Herman drew his gully knife, while Stefanus swept his cutlass from out from the sash at his waist.
      “You think …?” began Herman.
      “Of course,” interrupted Stefanus before Herman could finish. “It’s happened to all the others who died. This river’s cursed. It’s Galdabash’s doing, and it won’t stop ‘til he goes away.”
    “So do we …?” Once more Herman failed to complete his words, but instead just gestured with his knife at his neck.
     “We do.”
     As Stefanus spoke, the bloodstained blanket twitched and Martin began to roll over onto his back, one arm pulling at the edge of the hammock. When his face appeared they could see his eyes had rolled right back in the sockets so that only the whites, or more accurately yellows, where visible.

Two seconds later and Martin was in two pieces, divided neatly at the belly by the vicious swipe of Stefanus’ razor sharp cutlass, each half of the the sliced hammock hanging down over him. He was not moving any more.

Two minutes later and Stefanus’ head reappeared at the hatch. Everyone on the deck turned to look at him.
     “Martin won't be voting,” he said as he tossed his bloodied blade out onto the deck so that he could pull himself up. “Let’s get on with it.”
« Last Edit: September 19, 2009, 08:12:32 PM by Padre »
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Offline Padre

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Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #94 on: September 19, 2009, 08:19:37 PM »
Grand Admiral Galdabash’s Zombie Pirates    Total Points = 2052
(A White Dwarf #306 Luthor Harkon Zombie Pirates List)
 
Grand Admiral Galdabash (as Luthor Harkon)
Vampire Fleet Captain (Brace of Pistols, Moonshine)
Vampire Fleet Captain (Brace of Pistols, Bloody Norah!)      
Vampire Fleet Captain  (Battle Standard, Dead Man’s Chest)      

25 Zombie Pirates Deck Hands Mob (Musician)          
25 Zombie Pirates Deck Hands Mob (Standard, Musician)   
25 Zombie Pirates Deck Hands Mob (Standard, Musician)    
10 Zombie Pirates Gunnery Mob
2 Bloated Corpses          
14 Scurvy Dogs (with Bad Dog)    

5 Animated Hulks   
2 Carronades   
5 Bases of Razortooth Rats   

1 Rotting Leviathan


Note: This is a proper White Dwarf Luthor Harkon List
« Last Edit: September 20, 2009, 10:07:09 AM by Padre »
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Offline Padre

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Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #95 on: September 19, 2009, 09:22:45 PM »
Battle of the Swamps    Part One

The Atta and Olobol tribes gathered every warrior they could when the living god Bo-Tana-Oon, with his brother Go-Akill-An by his side, ordered it done. The youngest braves amongst them were excited for they had never been commanded in battle by one of the gods, while the older warriors wondered at just what it was they were going to do for they had never been led in battle by two of the gods together. None had much time to ponder all this, however, for Bo-Tana-Oon led them away before nightfall, and then all their concentration was on not getting lost or separated from the army as they moved through the jungle.
     By dawn, they had left their own realm far behind and had moved into the southern reaches of the swamp, where the great river wended is sluggish way across the land.  The broken edge of the jungle ran along to the west of them, and the air was filled with the familiar foetid smell of the noisome swamp waters. But there was another odour assailing them, much worse than that of the land itself - the stench of death.


The larval Slann Bontanoan and his spawn brother Goakitlan could now see the foe over the flat land, and both decided that this was an enemy they could fight. He began signalling the warriors, his brother’s shrieks and cries joining in harmoniously and with precision. The Pygmies noticed this, and some wondered whether the god Go-Akill-An knew exactly what his brother was thinking. (And he did - it was a magical ability the two siblings had been practising for some time now.)
     Most of the Pygmies’ strength gathered in the centre and on the left the line. Twenty blowpipe armed skirmishers moved boldly up on the far left flank, led by Goakitlan; then came the main band of tribal warriors, with Chief Atta-ooga and Bontanoan himself in their front rank. Two large swarms of jungle creatures moved ahead of this regiment. The hardest hitting unit, the dwarf-boar riders (Saurus equivalent), advanced in the centre, with the terrifying fire-breathing salamanders on their flank, prodded forwards by a mass of pygmy braves armed with javelins.


Out on the far right another large band of skirmishers crept through the cover of the jungle, while four Terradons and their Pygmy brave riders swooped forwards to their left.


Bontanoan had brought only those who could move relatively quietly on this journey, for he had thought that if the enemy proved too strong he would retreat from them all the wiser and then gather the other tribes. Thus he commanded no Stegadons or Gorrilagors (aka Kroxigors). Still, he was confident, for the foe were a pathetic looking band of warriors, held together by some sort of curse, but nevertheless presenting a shambling and rag tag appearance. They moved slowly (what wits they might once have possessed were long since gone) and although they were walking dead, the cold blooded larval Slann and the stubborn little pygmies (counts as skink cold blooded rule interpreted as ‘stubborn little buggers’!) gave it hardly a thought.

Grand Admiral Galdabash once again marched with his mighty undead Ogres (the ‘Animated Hulks’), and once again he moved on the flank of the line - this time on the far right. Beside him three large regiments of zombie pirates staggered and splashed through the mire, their strength maintained by the corpses of the pirates who had been left behind during the Battle of the Dunes. Three Vampire Fleet Captains (rather more quick witted zombies than the rest) led them, and an undead Wyvern (‘Rotting Leviathan’) crawled along next to them. The creature had flown in life, but in death its wings proved too rotten and riddled with tears to support it, and so it dragged itself along over the soggy ground like a serpent might slither.
      Two bloated corpses struggled to keep up with the zombies, but to their left the two carronades had halted, their crews now busy with loading and no longer concerned with hauling their burdens. In front of these petty cannons swarmed a large mass of Razortooth Rats. Out even further to the left ten Zombie Handgunners formed a line and hefted their rusty pieces ready to fire. Furthest out of all a pack of Scurvy Dogs moved in a strangely quiet manner, quite unlike how they would have barked and yelped in life.


The armies were arrayed, and the battle was about to begin.

TBC.
« Last Edit: September 19, 2009, 09:27:12 PM by Padre »
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Offline Padre

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Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #96 on: September 20, 2009, 08:05:05 PM »
Battle of the Swamps   Part Two - Turn 1

Bontanoan gave vent to a high-pitched shriek that every warrior in his army could hear, even those on the far right, and the entire force began their advance. The Terradons were of course the swiftest amongst them, and they put this quality to good use - flying far out beyond the line with a mind to silence the carronades. The pygmies on their backs had seen such as the carronades before (no-one else in the army had) during their forays out to the coast. There they had espied ships carrying several similar weapons, and watched as they belched fire and rocks at other ships. But they had also witnessed how (like Salamanders) they needed handlers to encourage them. Now they intended kill those handlers.


The pygmy skirmishers of the Atta tribe moved up as best they could through the jungle trees, following the Terradons. In the centre the Salamanders moved forwards while the large regiment of Olobol tribe boar riders expanded their frontage that they might use more spears against the foe (Game Note: Or the player thought to take less hits from the carronades by having less ranks - you decide!)


On the left the two swarms of lizards, snakes, spiders and such like moved towards the massed ranks of zombies, while Bontanoan and his spawn brother led their regiments forwards too to enter the swamp. This might have made the going difficult for many a warrior, but not the pygmies. They were used to such terrain (Game Note and in-joke: The reason the pygmies have the skink equivalent ‘aquatic’ rule = Watersnake! You don’t understand? Here’s the reason again - Watersnake! See?)


It was now that Bontanoan and his spawn brother began to get the measure of the foe - for their magic failed to harm the enemy at all, instead dissipating even as they attempted to stir it up in to existence. These foul creatures of undeath were (perversely) guarded by a powerful anti-magical force, and its source seemed to be the blue skinned demonic creature on their right flank.

The three salamanders opened their mouths to spit gobbets of liquid flame high into the air, singeing the scurvy dogs some way off in front, bad enough to kill two. But no-one else in the Pygmy army was close enough yet to let loose with their missile weapons, neither javelins nor blowpipes.

Grand Admiral Galdabash had never fought an enemy such as this before. This might have made another commander cautious, but not so Galdabash - he was ruled by his passions, much given to whim, and caution was something he had forgotten existed. He ordered his army’s advance with a silent thought, for all were bound to his will. He himself (as if to prove his lack of temerity) advanced with his animated hulks right up in front of the twenty poisoned-dart, blowpipe-wielding pygmies. Let them do what they might, he thought, it was surely not enough to save them.


The two zombie regiments at the front shambled as best they could towards the swarms, for want of anything better to do. They were led by three of Galdabash’s fleet captains, undead seamen with a little more wit about them than the rank and file around them, who were already wondering just how they were supposed to dispatch a mass of skittering, flittering creatures using zombie pirates who did nothing quickly. [Game Note: As the Wh.Dw. Luthor Harkon army list was for 6th ed. rules, then we were employing 6th ed V.C. rules, including brain-dead. I might not do this in future - in a spirit of compliance with the rules, of course, not just to get rid of an annoying limitation.)


The Scurvy Dogs scuttled backwards in the face of the Terradons, trying somehow to get themselves in a position to intercept the flyers and prevent them getting at the brace of Carronades.


In the rear, the third body of Zombies began moving diagonally across the field, looking for some way to support Galdabash later in the battle, and the undead Wyvern flapped and flopped along beside them, its haphazard motion belying the considerable strength and ferocity it could still muster in anger.


Suddenly a red flowered carnivorous plant snapped open two leaves like jaws and swallowed up a zombie. (Game note: We were using the old Lustria book ‘Encounters’ rules, and this had been placed the turn before by my foe!) At almost the same moment quicksand claimed the lives of three of the warriors in Bontanoan’s regiment, while another carnivorous plant lashed out to kill three Pygmy Skirmishers out on the far right of their line. (Game note: Sweet, if rather randomly generated, revenge!)

Now came the Zombies’ first attempt at harming the foe with gunpowder. This proved somewhat disappointing, for both Carronades failed to reach the Salamanders with their shot (this being the first salvo in what could be described as an artillery duel) while three Zombie Handgunners tumbled to the ground when their own rusty pieces tore them instead of the enemy apart!

« Last Edit: September 20, 2009, 08:08:16 PM by Padre »
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Offline Padre

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Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #97 on: September 20, 2009, 08:15:48 PM »
Battle of the Swamps  Part 3 (Turn 2)

Bontanoan did not intend to allow any other warriors to succumb to quicksand, not when there was a foe that needed fighting, so he ordered the regiment to fall back.
   

As Bontanoan moved away from the enemy, one of his swarms charged into the centremost Zombie regiment, and the tiny creatures ranging from the size of insects to that of bloated lizards skittered and leapt about so nimbly that they bewildered their undead foe. The swarm dragged the army standard bearer down before he could even raise his cutlass, while the other fleet captain only managed to kill two little creatures with a thrust of his rusty blade. Three more Zombies fell, and thus began a slogging match that would last some time, while slowly but surely more and more dim-witted Zombies were dispatched by the fangs, claws, pincers and stings wielded by the swarm.


The Salamanders, Terradons and rightmost skirmishers of the Atta tribe all moved towards the centre of the field (a necessary move considering the enemy was over on that side). Once again all the spells the jungle dwellers could muster fell foul of the powerful dulling of magic that the foe’s presence caused. Goakitlan could only curse, then give the order for his skirmishers to let loose a hail of forty darts - both he and they were certain nothing on the gods’ earth could withstand such an attack. Yet only one of the Hulks fell while another staggered for a mere moment (5 wounds!). Galdabash and four of his Hulks were still coming!


The Terradon Riders skewered one of the unfortunate Zombie Handgunners with a javelin as they passed by. They whooped in delight, but their celebrations were cut short by screams coming from the Salamander handlers nearby whose fire breathing beasts had accidentally killed two of them, as well as failing to send their fire far enough to reach the Zombie regiment ahead.

With all this going on, the Terradon Riders failed to notice the threat from the Razortooth Rats (Game Note: The player forgot they were skirmishers with a 360 charge arc!) and were taken by surprise when the very large (5 bases) swarm set upon them. They tried to flee away from the danger but were simply not quick enough, and the rats overwhelmed them, dragged them down and began tearing at their flesh. Out on the right of Galdabash’s line he himself led his Hulks in a charge against the skirmishers in front of him.


They proved rather more fearless than the Terradon Riders and attempted to fight rather than run, but when their champion was brutally and bloodily torn apart by Galdabash and four more Pygmies perished in a similar fashion, the fact that they had managed hurt the foe (4 wounds on the Hulks) was not really foremost on their minds and they too fled, managing to get away. Perhaps, unlike the Terradons, they had realised only too well what was surely to come and had prepared themselves for exactly this flight?


Galdabash pursued and in so doing ended up caught in the quicksand himself. Being a pirate, however, and thus like the rest of his army not wearing armour, this proved no real danger to him. He simply splashed about a bit whilst staring at the enemy up ahead and conjured images in his mind concerning how he was going to rend them limb from limb!

When the Carronades attempted to fire a second time they had a little more success than previously. One did misfire, but the other managed tom wound a Salamander. Their success was bolstered by the continued efforts of the Zombie Handgunners, who also wounded a Salamander and at the loss of only one of their number this time (mind you, their were less of them to lose in the first place!)

Perhaps things were going Galdabash’s way?

Part 4 to follow.

Ok, quiz time (like I’ve done before). You’ve got the lists, terrain, deployment and a full description of the first two turns. So, who’ll win this one?
« Last Edit: September 23, 2009, 07:46:29 PM by Padre »
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Offline Timbor

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Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #98 on: September 22, 2009, 02:11:11 AM »
I still don't get the "watersnake" bit about the pygmies  :unsure:, care to enlighten me further?

I'm voting for the zombies to win, as they still have some hard hitters with the hulks and the leviathan... although I want the pygmies to win!

Tim
If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason. - J.H.

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Offline warhammerlord_soth

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Re: 'All that Glistens' - A Story/Bat Rep Project
« Reply #99 on: September 22, 2009, 05:53:35 AM »
I still don't get the "watersnake" bit about the pygmies  :unsure: , care to enlighten me further?

That cracked me up, padre. You know why.
Have one  on Midaski's tab.  :::cheers:::
Famous last words. R.I.P.