Darkness of The Night: Dark Elves will get Empire Village Children not in bed !

The Boogeyman come to Hagerndorf...

On Anzac day the Boogeyman visited Hagerndorf, a small hamlet just outside the city walls of Hagern-Dasz, the famed Ice-cream producing town of the Empire.

A Hackseer cruise from the Dark Elf City of Tor Clairol came visiting. On board was the young Highborn Noble Frozdik Hellescorn. The youngest son of the Master of Tor Clairol, out on a quest for slaves and bounty. The Hackseer cruise was to establish himself as a corsair, in every way as cruel and unrelenting as his father.

His father, Scalpslasher Hellescorn , Master of the Tower of Clairol, personally girded him with the Armour of Darkness, and placed the throbbing haft of  the Crimson Death in his hand before he left. 

He looked towards his grandmother, the Crone Hellebron, who was just boarding the sleek Family Corsair Ark, gently bobbing on the incoming tide, its prow sleek with the blood of the slaves sacrificed to Khaine to bless the journey. Her ancient frame was again filled to that of a beauty in her prime by the energy and blood that she had just spilled in the dedication ceremony. Khaine seemed to be pleased. 

The Crone turned on the gangplank, looked back at her favoured son and eager grandson, who had only last week come of age. She hurried down to her state-room, followed by her retinue of Witch-elves, her eyes burning in anticipation of the further bloodshed to come.

The Master Scalpslasher watched the Corsair Ark slip into the night, and hurried back to his tower, rubbing his hands together. Fresh blood! Fresh Slaves! Fresh Scalps! Tor Clairol has grown rich on the trade in hair extensions made from the pale hair of the citizens of the Northern Empire Cities.

 It seemed that the Dark Elves just could not get enough of the fashion for Slaves with fair hair, and of the hair extensions made from their freshly harvested scalps. 

He looked up at the banner bearing the City's motto, snapping in the stiff breeze.
He smiled:
"Tor Clairol: Creates your locks!"

*****

Just before dawn. Shades appear out of the forest. The Empire seems asleep.

In the darkness before dawn, outside of Hagerndorf, two Shade warbands appeared at the edge of the forest. In front of them the hamlet of Hagendorf laid asleep. The lights in the watchtower had grown dim. They smirked at each other: "Easy pickings!"

They saw the Ark glide up to the silvery beach, its sails all but invisible in the dark. Dark shapes spilled out onto the sand. They could make out the Sea Dragon cloaks of the corsairs, with the young highborn strutting ahead of the formation, his magic armour glowing a dull purple in the darkness. The Old Master of Tor Clairol had not lied. There really was going to be slaughter tonight!

Druchii Ark unloading witches and Bolt-thrower

They silently watched as the Dark Elves unloaded a Repeater Bolt-thrower and a regiment of Tor Clairol Crossbowmen. The two repeater bolt-thrower druchii were bent under the weight of their giant repeater crossbow. The deftly assembled it and waited for the signal.

 Last to join the assault party was two sorceresses, and a cavorting unit of Hag-witches, surrounding a Hag Queen, and what could only be the deceptively curvaceous shape of the Crone Hellebron.

Druchii Repeater Crossbows

Assaulting the Watch Tower

The Druchii party silently slid up to the base of the watch-tower. The Crone and her party headed towards the gates of Hagern-Dasz. The Level two sorceress stepped forward, eager to unleash the power of darkness on the sleeping empire forces. "Eliminate the guards in the Tower!" came the Order from the Highborn. The sorceresses called on the winds of magic. Ten! plus one for the seal of Grond! An Arc of magic fire rose from one of the sorceresses, instantly reducing WS, BS, and Int of the defenders to 1. irresistable force! Magic Feedback, and both sorceresses lay writhing on the ground, leaching a wound each

The corsairs and repeater crossbow men let fly a fury of bolts, but the stone ramparts of the tower and the extreme range protect the watchmen, and only 3 fall to the Druchii bolts. The defenders return fire, and 2 Corsairs crumple to the ground.

Meanwhile the corsairs sneak closer to the sleeping village, intent on destroying the menacing shape of a Hellblaster Volley gun parked in the middle of the square. An alarm trumpet is sounded. Lights flicker on all over the village, torches are lit in the castle. The Noble is dismayed. "We've lost the element of surprise!"

"Take the tower!" He shouted. "Use your damn magic!" He shouted at the sorceresses. "Watch your mouth, young Hellescorn! You are not the Master yet!" she sneered. 8 on the winds - I'll show him! " Pit of Shades! I'll drag them all to their Doom!" Another Arc of blue light, Nooooooo! Magic feedback again !

 "It's not suppose to end this way!" She crumpled, even as she heard the screams of the tower guards being dragged down into the netherworld. The corsairs couldn't distinguish whose cries we the loudest: The Nordland defenders or those of the dying sorceress and her acolyte.

And then the Druchii had magicks no more...

Infuriated by the loss of their sorceresses the attackers scaled the tower,  hacked the defenders to pieces and stopped just short of a crazed bunch of flagellants who stormed out of the Sigmarite shrine. "The End is neigh!" crowed the prophet of doom at their head. " Too right it is!" shouted the Druchii Noble "I spit on your Sigmar! Taste Druchii Steel!"

Having cleared the Tower of guards, the Druchii attack

Handbows unleashed a rain of death on the Flagellants, but this drove them crazier still, they advanced on the Druchii like a tidal wave, flails rising and falling, smashing Druchii bodies in their path, sacrificing numbers of their own to attain greater religious  fervor.

 A vain-glorious bright  wizard stumbled out of one of the hovels, and unleashed  a fireball on the Corsairs, 7 of their number burnt to cinders in seconds. The crossbow men turned him into a porcupine.

Seeing this the Warrior Priest thought it best to seek shelter in a unit of militiamen, who were charging up to support the flagellants decimating the numbers of the corsairs. "Thats it boys! Let the looneys kill most of them. I'll bolster you with my battle prayers! Don't worry!"

Empire Wizard becomes a porcupine

Ersatz Flagellants (Executioners masquerading as...) clashing with the Corsairs

Suddenly the last flagellant fell, frenzied with blood lust, the Corsairs overran into the militia. The Noble stepped out of the throng of Corsairs. His hour had come! Time to make a name for himself!

The shaft of Crimson Death glowed a dull red in his hands. His armour glistened with flagellant blood and Khaines blessings. "Who dares oppose me? I claim all the inhabitants of this village as slaves in the name of My Father, Scalpslasher Hellescorn, Master of Tor Clairol!"

 The Warrior Priest stepped forward, a war hammer in each hand: 

 "Over my dead body! Be gone, in the Name of Sigmar! You shall take no-one here alive! "

                                         

"So be it!" Sneered the Highborn. In a movement, too fast for the Priest to even register, Crimson Death carved a red furrow across the Priest's neck, exposing the flesh to the white of the bone below.

His warhammers dropped from his lifeless hands, clattering on the ground, almost in time to the thump of his severed bald head. The head rolled across the cobbles, sightless eyes staring up at the terrified militiamen. Then the corsairs were upon them.

Reiksguard Knights, Cream of the Empire. About to get whipped 

The Reiksguard knights burst from the gates of Hargen-Dasz, heading straight for the Witch-Elves, thinking them a soft target. Druchii Bolt-thrower unleashed bolts into them, as did the crossbowmen, dropping a few knights. Then they were in contact. A wisp of a girl stepped forward. "I issue a challenge!"

  

The Battle Standard Bearer spurred his horse forward.

"Leave this to me boys! I'll teach them to send pretty girls up against Men of the Empire! My horse will trample her into the ground. I will not even have to un-sheath my swor..."

BSB: Leave her to me, boys!

What the? Hey! 

Aargh!

He stared in disbelief at the length of gleaming druchii steel that now protruded from the centre of his chest.  It had penetrated right through his armour. Then he felt the heat of poison coursing through his body.

His sword was still in its scabbard, his lance on its rest. "But, but I had a 2+ armour save...."

He felt his horse collapse beneath him. The battle standard fell into the dust from his lifeless mailed fist. 

He did not hear the victorious cackle of the ancient crone's blood-lust, nor see her lick the blood from her dripping magic weapon, as she watched her witch-elves swarm all over the terrified knights.

The Crone Triumphant

Last of the Knights, fleeing from the girls

" Pretty girls indeed! ... the Brides of Khaine." She watched with satisfaction as the last remaining knight was run in from behind, and let out a satisfied howl as the little witch-elf jumped onto the back of the fleeing horse and the last knight succumbed to a flurry of poisoned stab-wounds.

" Now for their General!"  she shrieked "Find him! Khaine wants his blood! ... and I want his head!"

The Empire General finally awoke from his slumber, and rushed to join his halberdiers

The Empire General finally emerged from his billet, and raced across the square to join his halberdiers. 

They all (including the General) all appeared slightly groggy. The night before they must have imbibed in too much of Bugman's Best Ale...or did the shades poison them?

A thunderclap and roll  of gun-volleys. The Empire gunners had made it to their hellblaster ! 

One unit of Shades was cut to shreds, but 2 shades made it into contact, the gunners falling to their swift blades. They were still crowing about their achievement when they in turn were killed by the empire archers, who had now appeared on the roof of the blacksmith. Pretty gutsy, with another unit of shades about!

                                                       

                                                         Hey, you, get off my cannon!

                                   

                                                                   Destroyed!

Only 3 Corsairs standing: Noble, BSB and Champion, with flagellants 

flagellating away at them, sacrificing martyrs as they go...

Crone: "The General next! Get him!"

Militaia men vaulting a wall to intercept the Shades

The Crone shrieks: "Stop them from getting to my girls!"

Empire troops  about to feel the force of the Witch Elves

Excuse me, sir, General, 

Is that Death watching over your shoulder?

It appears so.

I'm getting out of here... Sexy girls or not... Too much for me.

The last militiaman standing runs for the Castle

General Dead.... In full view of his troops too. 

Didn't even strike a blow. What are we to do?

Wizard and 2 militiamen, about to die.

The second group of militiamen had found courage from somewhere. Boosted by the wizard and lore of life, they stood firm against the dwindling number of corsairs, reducing their number to 3. The DE champion, BSB and Noble remained. Then there was just the nobleman;  3 on one. But what a Druchii hero!

 Years of training,  and superior skill, armoura and weaponry paid off: 3 attacks, 3 dead. 

The Noble surveyed the carnage. Around him lay the dead, empire and druchii alike piled knee-high. 

He was the last man standing. A true Druchii, now fully blooded in battle!

Across the square he saw the final events of the battle unfold.
The Empire General made exactly the same mistake the BSB did: Underestimated the Crone.
Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was suicide.

She challenged: She stepped forward.
He stepped forward.
He went down. Never even got to raise his weapon
Never had a chance.

The Druchii Lord smirked.
...Grandma is such a bitch!

The witches were now unstoppable. 2 fell to the Empire halberds. As they went down the formed a bridge for their sisters to run across, who then rained poisoned attacks with hatred and frenzy on the startled empire soldiers. A group of militia sought to attack them from the rear, but were slaughtered short of one man by the frustrated witches in the back rank. They couldn't get in on the fun, and were only too delighted when they were charged from behind. A single Empire Militia survivor fled the battlefield.

The will to fight had now left the brave Men of the Empire.
The remaining halberdiers and archers were rounded up, along with the civilians, men and womenfolk and children of the village alike, and herded into the ark in chains.
The citizens of the  fortified town of Hagern-Dazs huddled behind fortified gates fearing that the druchii may turn their attention to them next.

The sun was red in the sky. Dawn had broken.
"It is time to leave!" Shouted the gleeful Hackseer. " Everyone to the ark! Bring the captives!"

The Crone cavorted over to the smiling young druchii nobleman.
She smeared the general's blood onto his forehead and nose.

"My Grandson! Priest-slasher Hellescorn!" she cried out.
"Khaine is well pleased! I am well pleased! Your father will be well pleased"
"Not a single hand laid on us in a challenge today!"

                                           


                           

Geheimnisnacht in the Empire

 Geheimnisnacht 2012

(From an Empire Perspective, retold from a first-hand account.)

A Reposted Fictionalised Battle report, first published in the Kapiti Wargames "News from the Front", based on a 6-player  Mega Game, 7500 points a side "Good" vs "Evil" earlier this year:

The twin moons of Morrslieb hung low in the sky. A low moan rose, as hundreds of undead skeleton warriors and zombies started throwing themselves against the outskirts of the village of Hazelnussdorf; which is somewhere between Gersdorf and Sabritz in Talabecland, towards the East of the Empire.

A Warrior Priest hurried peasants who had not yet heeded his warnings about Geheimnisnacht into buildings in the town centre. “Take cover, take cover!”

State troops from Talabheim had arrived, grim-faced veterans, hardened soldiers, assembled along the east side of the village stream; preparing for the task at hand. Twenty hot-headed young pistolier corps riders clattered down the cobbled street on their horses, whooping in delight about the battle to come, full of bravado. The grim warrior priest shook his head, and chanted a blessing of Sigmar over the disappearing riders; as he hurried down to join the assembled halberdiers and spearmen. This was no laughing matter.

Word had come that Emperor Karl Franz himself was at the head of a column of Reiksguard knights that were making good time from Altdorf to Talabecland, bringing with them a War Altar and the Arch Lector to see help off the Undead menace. A small mixed contingent of Middenheim spearmen and halberdiers had joined the ranks of the Talabec stalwarts. It did not appear that these were official reinforcements from Middenheim, but rather family members that had come to the aid of their kin. Certainly their low numbers did not suggest that their Elector Count was able to send full strength reinforcements, but had rather allowed members of his force with family in Talabecland leave to help defend their province.

With a roar the small stream bisecting the village erupted, the water starting to seethe and boil. Surely evil was a work here!  A group of elven archers arriving from the south barely made it up onto the hill above Hazelnussdorf, joining the mortar crew and repeater volley gun that was already tracking the advance of the undead horde streaming in from the north-west. The balance of the eleven force, mages, riders and swordsmen had to turn towards the north, as the boiling waters blocked their advance. They found themselves immediately face to face with a unit of vampiric blood knights that was bearing down on them.

The master engineer, overseeing the loading of the volley-gun, looked up as a cry of dismay rose from the edge of the forest at the east side of the village. “The Orcs! The Orcs! Grimgor is coming!”
His heart sank as he saw a stream of Orcs and goblins flowing down from the forest to the east. “Trust the greenskin hordes to capitalize on an Undead invasion”, he thought! Now the Talabeclanders had to face an attack on two fronts.

 The engineer prayed that the messenger he had sent to the Slann had made it through. Sigmar knows, they were going to need help! Then he noticed a Mortis Engine and a flurry of winged dank creatures rise into the air from the north-west. The undead were now stirring in earnest, necromancers and vampires animating the newly dead and long dead alike. As a unit of Lizardmen on cold ones burst from the forest grove, he saw a black coach and a corpse cart approach the entrance to the hamlet. “We are doomed”, he thought. “Where are the rest of the Lizardmen with their Slann ?”
" We will need strong magicks here today!"

With almighty Waagh! The Green horde stormed forward. Doom divers, at least 4 of them flew through the sky, and landed among the tightly packed defenders in the narrow streets of the hamlet, cutting down swathes of regular troops as they landed. A rock lobber threw a boulder high in the sky, hitting the group of mustering pistoliers, taking down several of their riders. “Stand firm lads!” the Talabec Officer on his horse said. “The Emperor will be her soon!”

Orc Arrows filled the air, raining down on the hapless pistoliers. Most arrows missing, or bouncing off their light armour, but the occasional arrow causing an impetuous young would-be knight to tumble from the saddle, his lifeblood draining onto the hard-baked Talabec soil. The crazed flagellants surged forward, stopped only by the presence of a rabble of irregular militia. “The end is nigh! Prepare to die!”  Shouted the Doom Prophet, flagellating himself with his whip. “I declare the Orc General to the East a heretic!” Shouted the Witch hunter, further stirring up the crazed flagellants.

With that, trumpets announced the arrival of the Emperor, Karl Franz, with Ludwig Schwartzhelm; carrying the Griffon Banner; by his side, with 20 Reiksguard Knights, resplendent in their gleaming armour and white shields carrying the cross of Sigmar. A cheer went up from the gathered troops, taking heart on the arrival of their Emperor. The War Altar of Sigmar with the Arch Lector Volkmar on board clattered to a halt behind the massed halberdiers. A few managed a wry smile at this sight. Now they stood a better chance!

However, the poorly disciplined milling mass of militia and crazed flagellants obscured the knight’s path. They had to wait patiently for these (most) irregular infantry to move out of the way. The trumpet sounded the advance. The pistoliers surged forward, as did the militia, halberdiers and spearmen of the empire. The Empire wizards of the Bright College attempted to cast spells, but the Winds of Magic were corrupted by the Geheimnisnacht energies, and the spells did not do much harm to the massed greenskin hordes.

The two volley guns erupted in a cavalcade of fire, raining injury on the Savage Orcs and Orc infantry. One barrel of the gun on the hill misfired, but was luckily cleared by the engineer. The two mortars failed to do much damage. The one near the wood exploded in a spectacular fashion, cracking down the middle and killing its crew outright. The other only hit a glancing shot on the front rank of the savage Orcs, its Str2 hits killing only one savage greenskin.

The Black Orcs screamed defiance, and charged forward. The handgunner detachment moved into position, took aim, and fired, only taking down one Black Orc in their volley. Their  movement had taken the handgunners into the small forest, which triggered a magic effect, unleashing ancient evil from trees on the unsuspecting handgunners, felling 3 of their number instantly. The pistoliers shot a few of the Orc arrow boys in their wild charge.

The Orc generals recognised the threat from the hot-headed youngblood pistoliers, and turned all their artillery on the pistoliers’ charge. Doom diver followed doom diver, rock lobber shot followed rock lobber shot, volleys of arrows tore into the riders, now caught in the open; until only the outrider and one pistolier were left. These were charged by both a wolf chariot and an Orc chariot. The defiant youngbloods shot from the saddle, killing one Orc chariot rider, before being shredded to a bloody pulp beneath the scythed blades, the chariots overcharging before grinding to a halt.

Savage Orcs and Black Orcs surged forward, the latter losing one blackskin to the forests evils, before clashing with the waiting halberds of the empire. The handgunner detachment could not get a bead on the horde in the narrow confines of the cobbled streets before Grimgor scythed his way through the empire ranks, followed by his jubilant horde. The gallant halberdiers hold their ground, encouraged by the warrior priest, who intilled in them hatred of the Black Orcs, but their defiance was short-lived, they were swept away,  killing both the  level 2 wizard and the  warrior priest in their ranks.  The black Orcs overran into a horde of spearmen, 4 ranks deep. These struck hard, but failed to make much impression on the heavily armoured black Orcs, Grimgor again slaying numbers with his superior skill, prowess and weaponry. The line held though, for the time being…

The Savage Orcs reformed and charged down the cobblestoned alleyway, finding them-selves opposed by not only the second detachment of handgunners, but also the unit of elven archers and the 9 barrels of the Volley gun, manned by the Master Engineer and a regular crew. During the shooting phase these took a toll, but this did not hinder the frenzied warriors in their bloodlust. Meanwhile, just across the boiling stream the Blood knights had hacked the elven swordsmen down to a single stubborn rank. The presence of a mage inspired the swordsmen to great heights, and they decisively turned the undead knights to undead crumbling dust.

Meanwhile the lizard riders were putting up a good fight against the hordes of undead. The winds of magic were very unkind, and the Chain of lightning spell failed to ignite time and time again. This may have had something to do with the absence of a Slann from their battle order. Maybe the great one was unable to stir from his deep contemplation to meddle in the affairs of mere men.

The narrow confines of the hamlet’s streets did work to the advantage of the lizard men, as the undead hordes were limited in how many could access the scaly warriors, and they were unable to drown the scaled ones in a tide of undead bodies, as clearly was the plan of the undead vampire generals and their necromancers.
 

Vargoyles and vargulfs had to shelter from the hail of arrows unleashed with deadly accuracy by the elves, and got slaughtered to the man (beast) by the defenders. However, slowly but surely the undead took possession of the village. The mortis engine exploded in a terrifying spray of undead body parts, the howling of undead souls draining away into the netherworlds deafening the defenders for a few minutes. Then it was gone…

The Orc Great Shaman cast Hand of Gork on the Goblin archers, setting them down in the enchanted forest, flanking the empire troops. This placement caused a small number of casualties from the forest’s effect, much to the amusement of the survivors. They then proceeded to shower the empire ranks with their poisoned arrows at short range, after releasing 3 fanatics which dealt incredible damage to the packed ranks of Empire defenders before being destroyed.

Not unusually, some of the greenskin artillery misfired, firing a doom diver right off the board, and also rendering some artillery pieces useless for several turns. The one goblin shaman cast with irresistible force, causing a miscast that dealt damage to every spell caster on the dark side. This particular shaman was the most popular wizard on the day (Not). Animosity did not seem play a great role in this battle, but is a constant fact in any greenskin army.

The remaining warrior priest in the ranks of the militia ordered them to charge the wolf chariot, wiping out goblin riders and wolves alike in their pent up hatred, overcharging into the Orc chariot. This proved a more difficult nut to crack, and they remained locked in combat to the end of the day. A unit of Trolls waded into the fray, gleefully killing some the poorly trained militiamen, but held back by the faith of the warrior priest, regenerating all wounds suffered bar one.

The flagellants charged forward, and into the fray, sacrificing 3 of their own as martyrs, but failing to cause many casualties. This finally made a way for Franz and the Reiksguard to gallop through into the open, and eventually making contact with the rank of Orc Big ‘Uns that were waiting. Franz and Ludwig killed several Orcs, but arrow and artillery fire caused the demise of several noble knights before they made contact with the Big ‘Uns, leaving the mob of Orcs locked in combat with the Reiksguard Knights when dawn broke.
Eventually daylight came.

The Undead and Orcs had pushed the empire defenders and their gallant allies to the outskirts of the town. The whole of the halberdier unit had been destroyed, with only a few of their handgunner detachment surviving the battle. The spearmen were clinging on for dear life, with their handgunner detachment and swordmen detachment annihilated. Undead had taken possession of a great many homes and buildings, ruthlessly slaying the terrified and helpless villagers, and feasting on their corpses.

Karl Franz and the Arch Lector decided to leave the contaminated village to the creatures of the night and their greenskin allies. The Witch hunter pronounced the village as unclean. The remaining empire troops withdrew to fight another day, after being ritually cleansed by the Arch Lector.

They left a great many the corpses of their comrades to the mercy of the undead. They slowly withdrew from the battlefield, knowing full well that they may have to face their fallen comrades when the twin moons of Morrslieb are full and the next Geheimnisnacht occurs…

Empire Conflagellation

Empire Conflagellation

(or lets all flagellate together now...)

I got my whole Empire Army (barring artillery) out last night, and arranged them on my gaming table.
Did I hear a cry of "solo wargaming !"; Scott ? You may call it solo gaming, I may Armies on parade....

Lets admit it, we all do it, our own little secret...

Without any buff and fluff, shields and upgrades I can probably field 10 000+ points. 

The Army contains many Mordheim Skirmish Models. (Skirmish games being another love of I have.) 

I have based them on square bases, not always ideal for skirmish games, but this means they can be used as part of standard WHFB armies too, so the Sisters of Sigmar can join the Army either as alternative Warrior Priests (Nuns) or part of a flagellant band. The Mordheim Empire Witch Hunters can fulfill a similar role.

How about a unit just containing Warrior Priests or Witch Hunters?

Who said self flagellating religious fanatics need to be only male? 

This picture is off the net, but my paint scheme is similar (Blue) for my Nordland Sisters of Sigmar

Generic pictures: Will post some of my own tomorrow, geting the wide angle lens out...
Pictured above is one of my favourites, the infamous Nun Chuck with her ubiquitous nunchaku shaped flail. A nice visual pun!