Battle of Farscry Holdfast

Greetings!

Here we have a 2000 points non-campaign battlereport to wrap up the year, my Aelves against my friend's Blades of Khrone.

The scenario was generated from the new Battleplan Generator that comes with the Core Book, giving us a straight-up "kill 'em all" game where nothing but slain enemy models and their Wounds mattered.

Without further ado, here's the game!

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Lord Sundamar Blazeborn surveyed the green field that stretched out far below him, his tactician mind memorizing the buildings and ruins that dotted the scene. A'undtur, his great red dragon, growled approvingly as it carried its aelf companion through the clouds.
"Daemons," the ancient being mind-sang to its rider.
"Daemons of the Blood God, hungry for the lives of mortals."
"And barbarian tribesmen, too. I can smell them all the way up here," Lord Sundamar sang back as he watched the ant-sized dots forming up into hordes and warbands on the field.

Across the field from daemons and barbarians stood a glittering host in neat, arrayed ranks. This was Sundamar's force, drawn from the loyal members of the Order of the Moonserpent to reclaim the distant Farscry Holdfast that had been lost to Chaos a couple of months earlier. Their aim was to secure the holdfast and its surrounding area so that astronomers and loremasters could once again gain access to the holdfast's structural scrying engines.

Puffington Post #17

A special thanks to Baron Klatz for the amazing Muskrateer sketching! Check out more of his wonderful drawings at his picture gallery.

Puffington Post #16

A special thanks to Baron Klatz for the amazing Cletus sketching! Check out more of his wonderful drawings at his picture gallery.

Battle of Twinpoints

Seventh and final battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

2000 points marking the zenith of the entire league, I know fielded most of my available Free Peoples collection. My army had to change their allegiance from Free Peoples to Order: Anvilgard in order to accommodate enough artillery and heroes for it to work, as my collection is based on the old Warhammer Fantasy Empire faction, after all. I got to play against Kuqry's amazind Dispossessed army, except that he also changed his allegiance to a more general level, taking Order: Hammerhal in order to fit in all his models.

So, it was 152 humans against 114 duardin, a total of 266 models on the board. Biggest game I've had in months! We played one of the scenarios in the Nighthaunt Battletome (customised to fit out campaign's theme) in which my Free Peoples march onto the field through a portal, facing a host of mountainfolk that didn't expect our sudden arrival. There were two objectives on the field, one on each end of the board. The rules were simple: if the Free Peoples controlled both of the objectives by the end of the game, they won, but if they controlled neither, they lost. Any other result was a draw, and as a suitably fluffy narrative spice the Dispossessed couldn't use Command Abilities on the first battleround due to, emmm, being surprised.

These two objectives mark the entrance to the dungeon housing the Slaaneshi daemon. Will Fersen and Rosengart be able to defeat the duardin, open the dungeon and defeat the daemon? On with the story!

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After a day's march Breuer's regiment had travelled across the Hyshian plains to arrive at the realmgate that would take them to the daemon's dungeon. With the arcane knowledge of Ernest Rosengart they were able to activate it and traverse into the shadowy Realm of Ulgu, to the Twinpoints, where the scholars assured the goal of their journey would await.

What awaited them was not only the dungeon they were after, but also an entire army of duardin camped right at the gates of the daemon's lair. General Breuer was among the first to ride through the realmgate, appearing at a lightly forested plain right in front of the mountainfolk army. The General couldn't believe his eyes.
"What? Wait, this can't be the location..." the stammered, turning to the rows of lieutenants and sergeants behind him.
"Where's Fersen? I must have words with him. Now."

The officers merely shook their heads, gazing around helplessly. Behind them the rest of the regiment was still marching in, rank after rank of heavily armed freeguilders appearing from the depths of the realmgate. The General saw there was no way to turn them back now.
"We need to rethink the plan. Cease the..."
"You'll do no such thing, General," Gunmaster Fersen interrupted, walking in from among the troops.
"The plan proceeds as we agreed. We need to gain entrance into the dungeon."

The Final March

The field was silent, except for the low hiss of the comets as they lay in their craters of wet soil. All around the site there were huge piles of ash where the corpses from the recent battle had been burned, those of friend and foe alike. Yet now there were no armies fighting over this blood-soaked swamp, no clashing swords, no echoing gunfire.

Two men were standing beside one of the comets, with no signs of other living beings anywhere to be seen. One of the men was walking down to the celestial orb, while the other stood on the edge of the crater, keeping watch.
"Will one comet be enough?" Gunmaster Wolfgang Fersen called down.
"How much power can the artefact bear?"
"I... believe one will suffice, as... the structure of the key doesn't seem to... be meant for enormous amounts of arcane energies," Battlemage Ernest Rosengart replied as he carefully descended into the crater.

Upon reaching the bottom, he placed the ornate key on top of the glowing half-buried comet. The surface of the celestial orb began glowing with golden light under the touch of the artefact. Ernest took his grimoire from his belt and began reciting a spell. Fersen scratched the back of his neck with his repeater, gazing around the swamps around them. This was the critical moment in which the wizard could not be disturbed.

Puffington Marshal Emmerich Heilman inspecting the Breuer's Regiment before they march off to war

Puffington Post #15

Oldentown District Council Election

Who will you elect to sit on the District Council of Puffington Oldentown?

You are allowed to vote for several candidates at once and fill the form as many times as you like - we have an entire city district's worth of denizens to impersonate, after all!

The candidates have listed their goals and agendas in the Election Special of the Puffington Post newspaper. Study carefully before voting (or don't)!

This form remains open until 7.12.2018, exactly a week from now.

web polls

Puffington Post #14

Puffington Post #13

Battle of Cometfall Plain

Sixth battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

With 1500 points now at my disposal, the campaign is nearing its end as the second last battle kicks in. It is a game of Battleplan: Starstrike, in which my Freeguilders must fight the Maggotkin of Nurgle for the domination of objectives that fall onto the board on 2nd and 3rd battlerounds.

Since there was no short story to herald this battle, the beginning of this report will be a tiny bit more narrational than usual. These are narrative batreps, after all!

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After the Khornate attack on the Hygrian Altars had been thwarted, Captain Oswald Wesley had returned to the two scholars to hear the next destination of their journey. Both Gunmaster Fersen and Battlemage Rosengart claimed that the key they possessed would have to be 'empowered' before it could be used to enter the arcane dungeons. This feat could be accomplished by bringing the artefact up to a recently fallen star and absorbing the celestial orb's power.

Oswald knew what that meant. It was yet another perilous task for his company of Averbury recruits. He had known this even before he received the scout's report as they had been marching to the Cometfall Plain some leagues to the north: sightings of a daemon army marching up to meet them at the site.

Second Battle of the Hygrian Altars

Fifth battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

My freeguilders have now climbed up to 1000 points in their second Matched Play battle of this campaign. This game was all about inflicting the most wounds on the enemy by killing their models. My (bad) luck was with me, as always, and I got paired with Blades of Khorne.

Yay?

1000p of Freeguild Guard, roughly 90 models, against a ton (pun intended) of Khornates. Sounds like a challenge!

Let's see how it went down...

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"So, the wizard was correct after all," Captain Oswald Wesley observed as the horizon filled with muscular barbarians crying out their devotion to Khorne.
"These buggers may be seeking to occupy these altars we just claimed. Or they just want our skulls. What do you reckon, Audrey?"
"Sir, I think–"
"Marvelous! So do I," he cut in, interrupting the young sergeant beside him.
"Our battleline must hold either way, we cannot let them get to the scholars now as they're planning their next move."

Case: Chobbin's Chamber Pots & Bits

MISSING!

The paychest of Chobbin's Chamber Pots & Bits

has been lost as it was being delivered to the

Oldentown Bank last night by my nephew.

The lad was walking somewhere around the 

neighbouring blocks when he got scared

by an astonishingly violent and aggressive

alley cat. He dropped the coffer and went hiding.

Whoever brings the coffer back to Chobbin's Chamber

Pots & Bits will be handsomely rewarded, as the butique's 

future depends on the discovery of the chest.

Please help!

Sincerely,

-Mark Chobbin

"Interesting..." Roderick mumbled into his longcoat's collar as he read then note on the wall. What an excellent chance to gain some fame and fortune for Usher's Investigations!  He tore down the note, folded it carefully and slid it inside his coat. He needed no competition on this case. His office must have the reward.

Gazing around if anyone else on the street had seen the note, Roderick pulled up his collar and walked away. He had been the first. He headed back to the office down at the corner of Grumblebeard District and Tumult Street. The Brothers would need to be rounded up for an immediate operation in southern Oldentown!

Warbands: Puffington Muffins & Puddings Militia

This warband belongs to VainVader, one of the partaking players in our Streets of Oldentown campaign. Check out his hobby blog diary to see what else he's up to. (But beware, the blog is written in Finnish – good luck reading that!)

Case: Sky-Port

Rough linen footwraps rustled on the cobblestones as the Brotherhood of the Absent Flame approached their destination. A dozen or so streetlamps fought moonlight for the dominance of the empty streets, their light painting the cobbles gold and silver. Shadows had grown long already, and none but the gong farmers and corpse-carts were moving in the alleys.

Investigator Roderick Usher had received a hint from one of his contacts in the Oldentown Sky-Port that an unregistered shipment had arrived just this evening. Brought in by an unremarkable duardin zeppelin and carried away by paid-off dockhands, the cargo was now waiting for its buyer outside the import dock warehouses. Unregistered, untolled and unguarded, the shipment was an excellent target for Usher's Unofficials. They needed tools to ply their trade, and rumour had it that the shipment contained weapons and black powder.

Too bad the Sky-Port warehouses were located in a night-time restricted area, guarded by City Watch patrols.

"We're close now, and the patrol won't be back for a moment," Father Eli Darenport whispered to Usher beside him as they turned yet another corner.
"The shipment should be here somewhere, outside warehouse thirteen... or eighteen. Hard to say," Roderick replied, turning the piece of parchment around in his hand and squinting.
"Michael's not especially good at handwriting. Might be why he's working at the Sky-Port docks to begin with."

They were accompaned by five Brothers this evening: Owen with his greathammer, Nash with his arquebus, Reece with his polearm, Ashton with his javelins and Adrian with his flail. It was the largest operation Usher's Investigation office had ever pulled off. They would need this shipment of weapons to arm the new fanatic followers Father Eli brought into the Brotherhood each week.

Puffington Post #12

Warbands: Usher's Unofficials

This warband belongs to Koltama, one of the partaking players in our Streets of Oldentown campaign. You're treading in his hobby stronghold right now.

Warbands: The Merry Muskrateers

This warband belongs to kuqry, one of the partaking players in our current Streets of Oldentown campaign. Check out more of his truly amazing work on his Instagram account!

Puffington Post #11

Forewarned

"Make way! Make way!"
A group of half a dozen halberdiers was pushing through the soldiers of Wesley's company. Oswald's men were now sitting and over a handful of campfires around the recently captured altars, effectively blocking the way to the ruins. The irregulars among them spat curses at the gold-armoured cohort pushing through the throng.
"Make way for the wizard!"

Battlemage Ernest Rosengart and Gunmaster Wolfgang Fersen walked with the halberdiers towards the altar ahead. After receiving word of Captain Wesley's success, Rosengart and Fersen had travelled to the site with all haste, eager to purify and verify the authenticity of the key they were carrying. The press of bodies got even thicker near the ruins as they went.
"Of all the captains we sent out there with their companies to seek out altars in Hysh, it had to be Wesley to find it?" Wolfgang muttered as the halberdiers pushed aside yet another militiaman who refused to give way.
"That man's not exactly known for warm welcomes."
"I... am just as agitated by the fact as you, Wolfgang. But... I do have faith in Oswald's skills. Just... look at how few men he lost in the attack," Ernest pointed out, nodding at the mass of men they were pushing through.
"A fair point," Wolfgang replied, looking around him and making silent calculations.
"Only a dozen or so missing. And you said they were fighting... seraphon?"
"That... is what the runner told me. Oswald... is a cold and efficient man, Wolfgang. We... would do well to remember that," Ernest summed up as they arrived at the altar.

Case: Ashensquare

There was a sudden knock on the office door that made Investigator Roderick Usher drop his tea. He pushed his armchair away from the oaken desk with a sigh, bending to scoop up the now-empty porcelain cup from the floor.
"Come in!" he barked, looking at the tea soaking into the crevasses in the office floorboards. The door opened, and closed. Rising back up, Usher met the gaze of a red-robed man with a high mitre upon his stern brow.
"Ah! Father Eli, how nice of you to pay a visit," Roderick smiled, placing his empty cup on the table.
"What news?"
"There was a fight at the warehouses last night. Words is, some contraband was brought into the city from the north by a new gang. Some vigilante locals had tried to stop them, it seems."
"You... You mean we've got a job?"

Father Eli Darenport rolled his eyes. The ex- Witch Hunter had done nothing since his dismissal except for putting up an office and sitting there, drinking tea. There had been no proper cases to investigate thus far, as Roderick was loathe to accept jobs from elderly people trying to find their belongings. The newly-founded Brotherhood of the Absent Flame still stood behind Usher, ready for anything. This private investigator had been the only one willing to drive the Brotherhood's ambitious goals.
"Yes, Roderick, we have a case. A friend of mine from the City Watch tipped me off on this one, asked us to look into it. Unofficially, of course," the priest said, holding the Investigator's gaze.
"Of course..." Usher replied, pushing himself up from his chair and turning to the bookshelf behind him. After a brief search he turned back to Eli and spread out a map on the desk. A map of the Oldentown District.

"Right... so there's been a mysterious shipment that's been smuggled into the city through the warehouse block," Usher mumbled thoughtfully, tracing his finger across the parchment.
"The nearest tollhouse there is that of the North Gate, which keeps the yet-untolled wares at..."
"Ashensquare," Father Eli cut in.
"That's right. After the day's work the tollhouse clerks pile up the goods there, safely away from the slums, leaving them under the responsibility of the nightwatches," Usher continued, getting visibly excited as he slammed his index finger down on the map.
"Then that is where we're headed! Are there any Brothers you can round up by nightfall?"
"Only the forester, Reece. He's working by day so he'll still be sober if I fetch him now, before he gets to the Goat's End for a pint."

Puffington Post #10

For more Puffington Post, and the first nine issues of it, visit the menu tab of the same name!

Stand at Bochenpeak

Greetings!

My longest running campaign, the Iron Grudge, is nearing its inevitable finale. The duardin legions of Azamar Ankor are advancing on the orruk-controlled city of Bochenfels, determined to track down and destroy Waaagh! Urgokh that has caused their kingdom a lot of trouble in the past. Three of Warboss Urgokh's most trusted (by greenskin measures) bosses and shaman have been brought down along with their respective tribes, paving the way for a final confrontation.

However, as High King Ungrim Ironhelm receives word of Wolfboss Elgar's defeat in a ranger ambush on the plains, another scout returns with an urgent request. The heir of Bochenfels, Richard Lemming, son of the late Governor Warwick, has been spotted in the mountains with a group of freeguild survivors and chased by a mob of orruks. Thought lost in the evacuation of his father's city, young Richard is an important asset in the war now that he turns out to be alive: by delivering the Lemming heir back to the Puffington Empire alive, the duardin of Azamar Ankor can conciliate the uproar currently taking place in the empire's nobility after the loss of their city.

Should the duardin fail to save young Richard, the restlessness in the Puffington Cabinet would surely grow to even greater heights, denying Azamar Ankor the support it may well need in bringing this war to an end and rebuilding their mountain kingdom.

The scenario was Battleplan: Hold or Die, with 20 Freeguild Militia and Richard Lemming standing in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by orruks. A force of duardin led by Morek Furrowbrow, the Hero of Bochenfels, is on its way to relieve the beleaguered humans. To spice it up, there are 3 Snowstorm Clouds on the battlefield, which move randomly at the start pf each player turn. They obscure vision, and getting passed over by them makes units unable to Run. In addition, should a cloud stay in touch with a unit, it confers -1 to all Hit rolls made by that unit.

Will the mountainfolk make it in time to drive off the greenskins and save young Richard?

Read on to find out!

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Battle for the Hygrian Altars

Fourth battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

The Skirmishes are behind us and we now begin the Matched Play part of the campaign. My Freeguilders are now at 750p and the first scenario was Path to Glory: Altars of the Gods against 750p of Seraphon. Both sides are trying to control 3 or more Altars at the end of any of their turns, starting from the 2nd battleround.

On with the story!

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"Irregulars to the front."
"Sir, wha–"
"Irregulars to the front."
The sergeant grimaced, saluted and set off to the back of the marching column, leaving Captain Oswald Wesley alone. He watched the sergeant make his way past the arquebusiers and halberdiers, all the way to the back where the militia was trudging along. 

Oswald snorted. He, along with a handful of other captains, had been tasked to take their companies through some strange forest-fog to Hysh, to seek out ancient altars and to secure them. All because those pesky scholars Fersen and Rosengart had emerged at the camp with an ornate key, telling people to go find something-something because something had to be taken to somewhere-somehow. It didn't make any sense to Wesley. He was a soldier, and a good one, at that. There was a reason he was one of the hand-picked captains that had been chosen to attend this drill camp outside Averbury. He was good. 

....and cold. Oswald had never been known for one with tendency towards empathy. That might also be why he was attending the greenie camp. Doesn't matter though, he thought as the irregulars were jogging past him to form a front line. Now he once again had men to command and a mission to accomplish. It was a great feeling.

Streets of Oldentown

Welcome to the Streets of Oldentown landing page!

This is a small-scale skirmish campaign between five players, each with a highly personalized warband that seeks to gain fame in the streets of Puffington's infamous Oldentown District. How does it work? Let's take a look.

This campaign has come to its conclusion, bringing victory to Blardah's Boner Brothers!

This is the map of Puffington Empire's capital city, or more precisely its Oldentown District. This area is one of the oldest in the capital, its foundations having been laid in the early years of this magnificent empire. There will be a more detailed background exploration for this map in the future, and it will be linked to this post for easy access.

Crestfallen Return

Ernest Rosengart didn't know how long he'd been running. His mage's robes flapped and tangled about his weary feet as he went, constantly reminding that they were not designed for running away from danger. The ornate key he'd retrieved from the battlefield was still safely tucked away under his robes, but he had had to detach his spellbook from its beltchains in order to carry it under his arm. Hanging from the belt, the heavy tome had made running all but impossible.

Ernest crashed through yet another set of bushes and leafless boughs. He could hear his clothes tear, but he did not care. Not anymore. After climbing a small stony hillock, he finally caught a glimpse of Averbury heraldry.

"Fersen!" 

Chaotic Cattle

Third battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

Lieutenant Scholz's Freeguilders have been pumped up to 80 renown points for this final Skirmish scenario before the standard battles begin. The scenario was Treasure Hunt from the Age of Sigmar Skirmish booklet, in which the players try to control 5 middle-field objectives, some of which may turn out to be treasures over the course of the game.

I got paired with Beasts of Chaos, a faction recently boosted with their very own Battletome. My Freeguilders were green with envy.

On to the story!

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"Lieutenant... we are close. I... am most certain," Rosengart reported in his usual slow manner. The freeguilders had been walking for the better part of the day already, and the landscape was once more showing signs of ruins as trees got sparse.
"Magnificent!" claimed Scholz, raising his hand sharply to halt the marching formation.
"Spread out. Gunners front, halberds rear. Greatswords with me."

Bolt from the Blue

The windswept field had been silent for hours, except for the assiduous work of four freeguilders. No words had been spoken while a row of shallow graves emerged on the edge of the battlefield. The Bloodbound corpses had been left were they had fallen, but each and every Averbury man had been laid to rest in the shadow of the forest edge.

Placing the guardsman's helmet he'd used as a shovel on top of the final mound, Lieutenant Leopold Scholz let out a deep sigh.

"That's all I can do for you lads. I thank you for your honourable service. In Sigmar's name," he muttered, thumping his forearm against his chest in salute. The Greatswords behind him echoed the gesture. Gunmaster Fersen was standing a bit to the side of the scene, deep in thought. He too bowed his head in acknowledgement of the modest ceremony.

"We sweep the forest now, then?" the engineer eventually called out after a moment of silence.

"Aye. We'll see if anyone else has wandered here in search of us, then we'll move on to where the khornates came," Scholz replied.

"We'll find that artefact and carry on with the mission."

Hours passed. Fersen, Scholz and the two Greatswords walked through the forest back to the portal they'd come from, each on them on high alert for any lurking danger in these unfamiliar lands. Sun was shining high in the sky, illuminating the forest in a warm golden light that made the woods much more beautiful than its misty counterpart that came before. There were even some birds singing merrily in the canopy.

Bloodhunters, Skullgatherers or Gorefarmers?

Greetings!

This post is a special one. Some might still remember the What Can We Learn from the Duardin? -pondering I wrote some time ago, wondering about the mindset and world-view of the mountainfolk and thinking what we could learn from them. This is something very similar.

In this post I will take a close look at what the Khorne Bloodbound are and how their society might work outside the battlefield. They can't just be raging foam-mouthed maniacs all day and all night, now can they? The aim of this post is to speculate what the lives of these skull-hunting, blood-grazed barbarians might look like when there are no freeguilders around to behead.

This post does belong to my Ponderings-category, so read on at your own risk. You have been warned.

So what are the aspects of the Bloodbound society we're going to scrutinise here? Well, here's my checklist:

- Subsistence Strategy
- Habitation Model
- Population
- Social Structure
- Worldview

We'll go through the list one topic at a time, slowly establishing a wholesome bigger picture of who these servants of the War God truly are. To support my deductions and speculations I use the models and background information provided by Games Workshop.

Manhunting

Second battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

My 60-renown Freeguild warband got paired with Khorne Bloodbound in a custom scenario called "Escape from the Silver Tower". The escaping warband begins the match on the table and tries to get off the opposite board edge, while the hunter begins off-board and tries to stop as many models from escaping as possible. Hunter's models arrive in their own movement phase on a roll of 4+. Scenario points are scored as follows:

Models that leave the board score points to the escaping player
+4p for each escaping model with Move 4"
+2p for each escaping model with Move 5" to 7"
+1p for each escaping model with Move 8+"

Enemy models slain before tehy leave the board score points to the hunting player
+4p for each slain model with Move 8+"
+2p for each slain model with Move 5" to 7"
+1p for each slain model with Move 4"

My opponent was the Escaping player and his Bloodbound were all worth 2 points for escaping or getting slain.

On with the story!

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"That's.... that's quite a bunch," Wolfgang whispered as he looked upon the Khorne warband sprinting across the forest opening.
"You sure we have a chance here?"
"Of course, Gunmaster! We're the men of the Puffington Empire, a couple of screaming blood-perverts have nothing to say against our honest steel... and some gunpowder," the lieutenant replied, smiling as they both crouched in the undergrowth of the forest edge.
"Those buggers have no idea what they're sprinting into."

The Searching Party

"Scholz? Scholz, you still there?"
Leopold tried to open his eyes, but even the faint light that flooded in was enough to make his head feel like splitting. His breaths were laboured and slow. It felt like something was sitting on his chest.
"Sigmar's balls! You took quite the beating there... Not much left of your fancy breastplate now. Now where did I put my knife..."

Leopold recognized that voice. Wolfgang Fersen. The Gunmaster. He wanted to reply to the man, to ask him where the bloody hell he'd been, but instead he focused on keeping his breathing shallow. That way it didn't hurt so bloody much. There was the sound of ripping fabric, a few shlinks and chops of a knife slicing things, and the weight on the lieutenant's chest lifted.

He sprang upright to a sitting position, drawing his lungs full of fresh air time and again with hungry gasps. He wolfed down the air like he was sitting at some noble's banquet after having subsided barely on army rations for months. How was it possible that air tasted this good? Leopold cast a quick gaze around his immediate surroundings, seeing the crouched Gunmaster in front of him holding the badly battered front piece of his breastplate. The leather straps of the piece of armour had been neatly cut.
"You look like shit, Scholz."
"Same to you, Gunmaster."

There were shapes of men walking about in the fog all around them, some of them strolling as if on watch, others digging up the soft soil with their hands and helmets. They were clad in the colours of the Puffington Empire. Averbury men, here in the mysterious woods? What was going on?
"Care to explain these chaps strolling about?" he asked Wolfgang while carefully trying to feel the condition of his broken nose with his hands. It was a bloody mess.
"Not much to explain there. Searching parties were sent out after us when we didn't return to the encampment, and these brave men here found the curious mist through which to travel here. They found me running away from that monstrous orruk and drove it off, so we could get back here to find you and bury the dead."

Encounter in the Woods

First battle of the Twilight Prince campaign!

My 40 renown Freeguild warband got paired against Ironjaws in the Skirmish Battleplan "Clash at Dawn". The aim is to kill over half of the models in the enemy warband while the ranges of missiles and abilities start off short and get longer each round. The first warband to reduce the enemy force below half strength by the end of any battle round is declared victorious.

On with the story!

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A pair of timid footsteps was audible in the silence of the woods, the sound of twigs and tussocks crumbling underfoot muffled by the veil of fog covering the land. Two freeguilders made their way through the landscape, ascending a steep hill to take a better look around them. All they saw was the fog.
"I don't like this, Eamond," said the one carrying a handgun, his young features rigid with fear. His movements were quick and shaky as he wiped the aiming monocle over his right eye clean with his palm.
"I don't think we ever should've slept on duty. T'was not worth this!"
"I hear ya, Calvin. I don't like this either, but what can we do? At least this ain't lavatory duty!" The older man sneered, placing his sword temporarily under his armpit to free a hand for scratching his golden beard. The pistol in his other hand pointed at the sky, loaded and ready.

Twilight Prince Campaign

Welcome to he Twilight Prince campaign landing page!

This is a slow-grow campaign organised by our local Age of Sigmar community to help people paint their stuff and have fun. It is more competitive than my usual campaigns, but laid-back enough to leave room for some pretty sweet narratives. There are also points to be scored in painting your army units and writing a background for them etc., so lots of extras to add to the points racked up in games themselves!

The idea is that three Skirmish games lead up to a series of regular AoS games, with the Renown and Point maximums increasing with each battle. The games are player in two-week cycles, so each month sees two different scenarios. 

Skirmish

- 40 Renown ✔

- 60 Renown ✔

- 80 Renown ✔

AoS Matched Play

- 750 points ✔

- 1000 points ✔

- 1500 points ✔

- 2000 points ✔

Eventually me and my Freeguild army placed 3rd in the campaign!

This campaign is now over, and will receive no further updates. It will however stay here as an easy way to read and experience its stories and battles again and again.