So, in case some of you haven't gotten the buzz, us True Bloods are doing test games of the WFO system to get rid of the bugs (And there have been a few we've caught and dealt with) before we hand the system out to the general Forumites that come here.
So, I thought to myself, why not give a narrative with pictures of a fight me and DoN had? Oh yes, and we're having a grudge match as well!
So, without further adieu, here's the map and lists we used; then I'll fall into character and start story time. Warning, this is rather long. :)
The Battle over Grandma's Orchard
Ogre Kingdoms 'Da Smasha!' Tribe Versus the Vampire Lord Lesa.
The Smasha! Tribe shaman, Ripjaw the Slaughtermaster, idly crucnhes a bone between his teeth with idle contentment; after today his stock of bones will be much higher. The Maw requires great sacrifices to channel its power. At dawn a human emmisary came into their Tribes Lands to hire them for a battle they could not win themselves; the Vampire Count Lesa had ravaged the surrounding lands for far too long, they said. The Human Armies, Vampire Hunters, Warrior priests and zealots that the Humans have sent have all failed; so now they enlist the Ogres.
Ripjaw laughs, spraying his tooth gnoblar with, well, teeth and other odorous shreds of offal and really, really bad morning breath.
"Where be Smasha!? Bring da Book!" The Gnoblar hurriedly runs to a tall table, scampers up while whimpering in fear, and grabs a heavy halfling leather bound tome, only to be snatched into the air and flung into a nearby rock because he couldn't let go fast enough. Whimpering pitifully, the Gnoblar follows Ripjaw out into the sun.
Da Smashas! are everywhere. Easily 20 ogres stand about the Maw pit, basting themselves in the blood of their enemies to prepare themselves for battle. Among them, standing head and shoulders taller is Da Smasha! himself. With a heavy, gurgling, messy roar Ripjaw sounds the call to March; echoed by the Tyrant.
The Ogres march to meet the Dead.
Da Smasha!'s take the field, and across from them, as promised, is the Undead Host. Many undead carrionr eaters amass, looking to their undead Mistress' coffin with hopeless abandonment.Beside them on the Undeads left flank is a large contingent of Wights, their great weapons gleaming in the early evening light, once those last rays are gone the Vampire will arise and battle will begin.
Da Smasha! Himself takes charge of the battle line. Placing the Gnoblars in chittering, scrabbling, noisy, ill disciplined mobs on either end of his battle line, he expects them to do absolutely nothing. His OGre Bulls, not yet having proved themselves in meaningful battle, array on either side of his Retinue; he's joing by Bonecracker, his battle standard bearer.
The last rays of sunlight fall behind the cliffs; battle is joined.
Lesa emerges from her Casket, looking to the mob of Ogres across from her with contempt; moving forward she fires magical energy into her Carriage; giving no less than 3 power dice to it, and outstripping the magical defenses of the Ogres with ease. She summons a wall of Zombies to cover her flank from the annoyances of the Gnoblar sneak-thieves, then the Winds of Magic strike back on Mistress Lesa as she agens the Ironguts before her well beyond their years. Bonecracker feels age wrack his body as he loses a wound, with the rest of the unit uneffected; but Mistress Lesa loses some of her power in the Miscast. (-1 Magic Level).
The Ogres respond, moving forward to prepare their charges, stomping their feet in fits, making the earth tremble. Ripjaw the Slaughtermaster forces down the innards of a Troll, giving the Ironguts regeneration, and then is countered by Mistress Lesa in her weakened state. Ripjaw is unable to Dispel the curse set by the Vampires! Bonecracker, the battle standard bearer feels weakened, ravaged by time as he takes another wound.
The Gnoblars pelt the newly dead with Sharp stuff, bringing down all but three of the fresh corpses. The scraplauncher on the hill has much better luck; it's payload of devestation lands directly atop Mistress Lesa, and no less than 15 of her dead servants return from whence they came.
The Undead Surge forward.
Mistress Lesa again harnesses the winds of magic, her Carriage leeching from the Slaughtermaster as well as her own pool, Lesa propels her Wights forward, far in front of the battle line to engage a unit of Ogre Bulls; the magical prowess outstripping the Slaughtermasters defenses. The rest of the magic phase is ineffective; the Slaughtermaster receives the aid of the Maw and the nameless Necromancer Lesa commands loses control of the Winds, many of the ghouls around him are ripped apart by the blast of magical energy as the Winds show their displeasure.
Once in combat, the Wights cut down ogre after ogre, their bodies falling to the Dead Things weapons. Only with an act of Insane Courage do the Ogres stay, having caused few wounds in return. Da Smasha! Roars his approval as the ogres hold the line, refusing to let the Wights move from their position and flank the OGre Forces.
Wounds are given and taken on both sides of the combats, but Da Smasha has had enough of waiting around. With a bestial roar, he charges at the mass of Ghouls to his right, while Ripjaw and her Bulls charge the flank of the ghouls on her left; the closest thing any ogre has come to using strategy. With very little accomplished in the magic phase, the Ironguts weather the rush of Poison from the ghouls (Taking 2 wounds on the Ironguts, and 1 wound on the Bruiser- 1 wound left!) and then, in a combination of sheer force, brutality, and overwhelming desire to smash these undeads back into the dirt, the Ironguts and the Tyrant deal 14 wounds to the Ghouls, and Lesa is simply unable to keep them animated. They sink back into the dirty, and Da Smasha reforms to turn his gaze on Lesa.
Ripjaw, runs into the side of the Ghouls like a freight train, and when the carnage is over half of them are returned to the dirt, but the rest hold and are decidedly angry. They manage to turn and face the Slaughtermaster, looking to destroy him utterly.
The Doomed Bulls manage to yet again hold off against the Wights; losing another one of their number, but inflicting enough wounds in return to gain their confidence back for another Insane Courage roll! Da Smasha! is intending to promote these two bulls after the battle, if they survive.
Lesa, enraged, sends her Magical Coach at the units on the hilltop; sending the Gnoblars screaming for their pitiful, worthless lives, and leaving the Coach free to impact the Rhinox borne Scraplauncher; doing massive damage, and quite nearly destroying it instantly.
To Emphasize her point, LEsa herself also opts to get into the battle, personally. She sends herself and the remnants of her Bodyguard into the flank of Ripjaw and his Ogres. It's all in, or all out at this point!
The fighting is bitter, poison working on the ogres, dropping another body. The ogres manage to inflict greivous wounds on their attackers, and hold the line!
Da Smasha! sees an opportunity to put this battle in the bag, as it were. With Lesa's flank vulnerable, he does not hesitate at all to send himself and Bonecracker into the fray! Impacting with the weight of a steamtank, Da Smasha! and his retinue destroy the magic that binds Lesas forces together so thoroughly that Lesa herself is forced to quit the field for her own survival.
Ogres are indeed fast, brutal creatures; but Mistress Lesa is faster. She escapes, and 'Lives' to fight another day. The Ogres begin collecting the bones of the re-dead for Ripjaw's personal stock.
The battle is won, a crushing victory to the Ogres; now the Humans had better keep their side of the bargain.....
------------------------------------------------------
If you've read all of this, thank you! I skipped over a lot of the dull bits, so a lot of this is paraphrased/cut out, but the pictures give you the general idea. I just like attaching a story to these things, it makes them so much more interesting to my eyes. So I may have gotten a detail wrong here or there, (It's a 22 page thread, for pete's sake!) but this is a good summarization. :thumbsup:
So, I thought to myself, why not give a narrative with pictures of a fight me and DoN had? Oh yes, and we're having a grudge match as well!
So, without further adieu, here's the map and lists we used; then I'll fall into character and start story time. Warning, this is rather long. :)
Onikaigoe said:Da Smasha! Tribe
2000 points
Tyrant
Tenderizer
Armor of destiny
Slaughtermaster
Bruiser
BSB
Rampager Standard
Bulls x 6
Standard
Bellower
Lookout
Xtra Weapons
Bulls x 6
Standard
Bellower
Lookout
Xtra Weapons
Ironguts x 7
Bellower
Standard
Rune Maw
Lookout
Scraplauncher
Trappers x 12
Fighters x 30
Groinbiter
Fighters x 30
Groinbiter
---------------------------------------------------------------------DoN said:Mistress Lesa and her Host
Mistress Lesa
MotBA, Forbidden Lore (Vampire), Summon Ghouls,
Helm of Command, Dispel Scroll, Talismen of Preservation
Extra magic level
Necromancer
Invocation of Nehek
VHD
Black Periapt
Wight King
BSB
Sword of Kings
Skeletons x 29
Command
Warbanner
Ghouls x25
Ghast
Ghouls x 24
Ghast
Grave Guard x 29
Great Weapons
Full Command
Royal Standard of Strigos
Black Coach
The Battle over Grandma's Orchard
Ogre Kingdoms 'Da Smasha!' Tribe Versus the Vampire Lord Lesa.
The Smasha! Tribe shaman, Ripjaw the Slaughtermaster, idly crucnhes a bone between his teeth with idle contentment; after today his stock of bones will be much higher. The Maw requires great sacrifices to channel its power. At dawn a human emmisary came into their Tribes Lands to hire them for a battle they could not win themselves; the Vampire Count Lesa had ravaged the surrounding lands for far too long, they said. The Human Armies, Vampire Hunters, Warrior priests and zealots that the Humans have sent have all failed; so now they enlist the Ogres.
Ripjaw laughs, spraying his tooth gnoblar with, well, teeth and other odorous shreds of offal and really, really bad morning breath.
"Where be Smasha!? Bring da Book!" The Gnoblar hurriedly runs to a tall table, scampers up while whimpering in fear, and grabs a heavy halfling leather bound tome, only to be snatched into the air and flung into a nearby rock because he couldn't let go fast enough. Whimpering pitifully, the Gnoblar follows Ripjaw out into the sun.
Da Smashas! are everywhere. Easily 20 ogres stand about the Maw pit, basting themselves in the blood of their enemies to prepare themselves for battle. Among them, standing head and shoulders taller is Da Smasha! himself. With a heavy, gurgling, messy roar Ripjaw sounds the call to March; echoed by the Tyrant.
The Ogres march to meet the Dead.
Da Smasha!'s take the field, and across from them, as promised, is the Undead Host. Many undead carrionr eaters amass, looking to their undead Mistress' coffin with hopeless abandonment.Beside them on the Undeads left flank is a large contingent of Wights, their great weapons gleaming in the early evening light, once those last rays are gone the Vampire will arise and battle will begin.
Da Smasha! Himself takes charge of the battle line. Placing the Gnoblars in chittering, scrabbling, noisy, ill disciplined mobs on either end of his battle line, he expects them to do absolutely nothing. His OGre Bulls, not yet having proved themselves in meaningful battle, array on either side of his Retinue; he's joing by Bonecracker, his battle standard bearer.
The last rays of sunlight fall behind the cliffs; battle is joined.
Lesa emerges from her Casket, looking to the mob of Ogres across from her with contempt; moving forward she fires magical energy into her Carriage; giving no less than 3 power dice to it, and outstripping the magical defenses of the Ogres with ease. She summons a wall of Zombies to cover her flank from the annoyances of the Gnoblar sneak-thieves, then the Winds of Magic strike back on Mistress Lesa as she agens the Ironguts before her well beyond their years. Bonecracker feels age wrack his body as he loses a wound, with the rest of the unit uneffected; but Mistress Lesa loses some of her power in the Miscast. (-1 Magic Level).
The Ogres respond, moving forward to prepare their charges, stomping their feet in fits, making the earth tremble. Ripjaw the Slaughtermaster forces down the innards of a Troll, giving the Ironguts regeneration, and then is countered by Mistress Lesa in her weakened state. Ripjaw is unable to Dispel the curse set by the Vampires! Bonecracker, the battle standard bearer feels weakened, ravaged by time as he takes another wound.
The Gnoblars pelt the newly dead with Sharp stuff, bringing down all but three of the fresh corpses. The scraplauncher on the hill has much better luck; it's payload of devestation lands directly atop Mistress Lesa, and no less than 15 of her dead servants return from whence they came.
The Undead Surge forward.
Mistress Lesa again harnesses the winds of magic, her Carriage leeching from the Slaughtermaster as well as her own pool, Lesa propels her Wights forward, far in front of the battle line to engage a unit of Ogre Bulls; the magical prowess outstripping the Slaughtermasters defenses. The rest of the magic phase is ineffective; the Slaughtermaster receives the aid of the Maw and the nameless Necromancer Lesa commands loses control of the Winds, many of the ghouls around him are ripped apart by the blast of magical energy as the Winds show their displeasure.
Once in combat, the Wights cut down ogre after ogre, their bodies falling to the Dead Things weapons. Only with an act of Insane Courage do the Ogres stay, having caused few wounds in return. Da Smasha! Roars his approval as the ogres hold the line, refusing to let the Wights move from their position and flank the OGre Forces.
Wounds are given and taken on both sides of the combats, but Da Smasha has had enough of waiting around. With a bestial roar, he charges at the mass of Ghouls to his right, while Ripjaw and her Bulls charge the flank of the ghouls on her left; the closest thing any ogre has come to using strategy. With very little accomplished in the magic phase, the Ironguts weather the rush of Poison from the ghouls (Taking 2 wounds on the Ironguts, and 1 wound on the Bruiser- 1 wound left!) and then, in a combination of sheer force, brutality, and overwhelming desire to smash these undeads back into the dirt, the Ironguts and the Tyrant deal 14 wounds to the Ghouls, and Lesa is simply unable to keep them animated. They sink back into the dirty, and Da Smasha reforms to turn his gaze on Lesa.
Ripjaw, runs into the side of the Ghouls like a freight train, and when the carnage is over half of them are returned to the dirt, but the rest hold and are decidedly angry. They manage to turn and face the Slaughtermaster, looking to destroy him utterly.
The Doomed Bulls manage to yet again hold off against the Wights; losing another one of their number, but inflicting enough wounds in return to gain their confidence back for another Insane Courage roll! Da Smasha! is intending to promote these two bulls after the battle, if they survive.
Lesa, enraged, sends her Magical Coach at the units on the hilltop; sending the Gnoblars screaming for their pitiful, worthless lives, and leaving the Coach free to impact the Rhinox borne Scraplauncher; doing massive damage, and quite nearly destroying it instantly.
To Emphasize her point, LEsa herself also opts to get into the battle, personally. She sends herself and the remnants of her Bodyguard into the flank of Ripjaw and his Ogres. It's all in, or all out at this point!
The fighting is bitter, poison working on the ogres, dropping another body. The ogres manage to inflict greivous wounds on their attackers, and hold the line!
Da Smasha! sees an opportunity to put this battle in the bag, as it were. With Lesa's flank vulnerable, he does not hesitate at all to send himself and Bonecracker into the fray! Impacting with the weight of a steamtank, Da Smasha! and his retinue destroy the magic that binds Lesas forces together so thoroughly that Lesa herself is forced to quit the field for her own survival.
Ogres are indeed fast, brutal creatures; but Mistress Lesa is faster. She escapes, and 'Lives' to fight another day. The Ogres begin collecting the bones of the re-dead for Ripjaw's personal stock.
The battle is won, a crushing victory to the Ogres; now the Humans had better keep their side of the bargain.....
------------------------------------------------------
If you've read all of this, thank you! I skipped over a lot of the dull bits, so a lot of this is paraphrased/cut out, but the pictures give you the general idea. I just like attaching a story to these things, it makes them so much more interesting to my eyes. So I may have gotten a detail wrong here or there, (It's a 22 page thread, for pete's sake!) but this is a good summarization. :thumbsup: