Ill Tides: Bulldog

KoW: Ambush / 995 points / Bulldog / Twilight Kin Win

Arlantrix rubbed her head, her hand coming away bloodied as she used the nearby wall to steady her attempt to stand. Groggy from what must have been a near fatal blow she struggled to recall what sequence of events had lead her to this point. As she gazed around the battlefield littered with the bodies of her kin the memories started to come back to her.

The mission had started well enough when her forces had discovered the magical artifact, a small statuette of some sort of dog. She merely needed to make sure it was transported back to her camp safely without it being taken by those blasted Dwarves. There must be a traitor in the camp or some devilish magic at work as every time she made a discovery they turned up to try and steal it. Well this time she'd made sure they would find that no easy task. She'd summoned and bound a Fleshripper from the Void and had the artifact sewn inside it's flesh, it could easily be recovered once back at camp.

Then on the journey back the stench of the Abyssal Dwarves had once again assaulted her nostrils and suddenly they'd appeared on the battlefield. But by some stroke of fortune they'd misjudged their march and appeared over to the left of the Kin's force so she'd been able to dispatch a small flying force to hold them up whilst the main force had continued it's march.

At first it had gone well with her flying Phantoms and Goredrake occupying most of the attention of the Dwarves. Arlantrix remembered peering across the battlefield to see volleys of fireballs and decimator fire being thrown against her holding force, seemingly with minimal effect.

However the superior numbers of the Dwarves eventually told and first the Phantoms and then a little later the Goredrake fell to the grotesque monstrosities birthed in some Abyssal pit.

Her main force had pushed on whilst this happened but disaster had struck, whilst clearing out a screen of Gargoyles a regiment of Impalers had been overcome with bloodlust and rushed off ahead. For once Arlantrix missed the presence of Zor'damos, whilst she may have been trying to steal the credit from Arlantrix, the Captain of the Heartseeker was an excellent warrior and kept her crew in order.

This over eagerness had led the Impalers to expose their flank to a mob of shambling Golems and the results were not far from where Arlantrix now stood, throbbing head in hand. Their dismembered bodies littered the ground and had been stamped into the earth by the heavy feet of the earth-born Golems.

Fortunately she still had some of the crew to hand to steady the line and as the now unopposed Dwarves from the left flank started to join the fight she'd been able to feed them into the line. At first it had gone well with her Kin holding the Golems and even routing a unit of Blacksouls. 

That had changed though when the Dwarven ranged units had arrived and her corsair kin and then the remaining Impalers where killed in a deluge of fireballs and decimator rounds. But all this death was not in vain as the Fleshripper had been safe all this time and took advantage of the confusion to escape off towards the waiting ships.

And now Arlantrix could recall why she had a bloodied head and had awoken slumped behind the wall in the dark. As the Fleshripper had escaped and that idiot Sycorax had chased after it in vain another Dwarven monstrosity had appeared. Seemingly a fusion of machine and Dwarf it had charged straight at her and clobbered her over the head. Fortunately it turned out to be as stupid as it was ugly and rather than finish the job it had lost interest as soon as she's fallen behind the wall.

Well, Arlantrix thought, I'm still alive and the artifact will be safely waiting for me, I'll call that a win.

After brushing herself down she setoff for the walk back to the ships landing place.

Next time: Armada / 250 points / A Storm is Brewing

Ill Tides: Trapped

Armada / 250 points / Trapped Isle / Abyssal Dwarf Win

No one would remember his name mused the admiral, unlike that Peacock of an Ironcaster, that moron Ironjawz - what kind of a sobriquet was that anyway?  The small flotilla under his command was groping around in the shroud misted expanse of the grey salty waste, waiting, or so it seemed to him, to be devoured by an unseen piratical elven menace.  Unless…….unless the Ironjawz could stop preening himself and mobilise the cream of the Hell Forged fleet and serve those Corsairs to the Mighty Kraken, something he himself has abjectly failed to do on a number of occasions resulting in imminent doom.

Scanning the horizon the elvish host is sighted.  They’ve split their forces, a grin spreads momentarily across the admiral’s craggy face, THEY’VE SPLIT THEIR FORCES!  Hope surges through his squat frame as if Ironjawz were reanimating one of the undead scum with his lightning bolt.

To the south the pirates deployed the bulk of their force - a  Soulbane, Butcher, Needlefang and Gordrake.  To the north a Butcher and Needlefang.  The dwarves saw their chance.  The wily old admiral would block the southern force with the Leviathan of The Deep - the indomitable Arbiter of Pain and The Infernox while the remainder of the flotilla would head off the smaller northern force to prevent them combining and doing for the elite of the Hell Forged Fleet.  It was a high risk strategy, especially as the dwarves are so ponderous, but they too had support from the skies with the devilish Caged Gun Worm to rain down terror.

All started well, the Butcher and Soulbane, enticed by the prize of the Arbiter of Pain sailed straight towards her.  An attempt to grapple by the Butcher failed although some minor damage was caused from a salvo.  The Arbiter of Pain in turn failed to land a devastating ram to put paid to the ambitions of the upstart captain of this vessel.  However the infernox lashed itself to the hapless Butcher.

 

Meanwhile the Butcher from the northern push was managing to outpace the dispersed rest of the the dwarven flotilla - Angkor, Katuschan and Decimator.  The Angkor inflicted an inconsequential hit as they passed but nothing to arrest their murderous mission.  However the nimble Katuschan, channelling the rage of Ariagful, landed a devastating blow from it’s mortars and set the Butcher fully ablaze - that should slow the corsairs somewhat.

It was clear the action would hinge now on the fate of the Arbiter of Pain.  The two Butchers and Souldbane were now circling the impregnable behemoth like rabid gutter dogs.  The Infernox boarded the first Butcher with a blood frenzy and slew many crew but was ultimately overwhelmed by the vastness of the buccaneer crew and not their resolve to resist.  The elves though were mortally imperilled from this encounter and it was clear they would play little further part, although not NO part!

The ensnared Arbiter of Pain was now tying up the main elven force all by itself.  It was bombarded by all three main battle ships sustaining crippling damage as well as being set ablaze.  Nevertheless it ploughed on like a great Hellfane in the throes of embattled death determined to take as many enemy as possible with it, aiming to ram The Soulbane.  Yet again the craven elvish pirates - not up to engage even a weakened Arbiter of Pain - steered away preferring instead to use their guns to inflict the coup de grace along with their brethren on the barely functioning Butcher.  This limping hulk seriously needed putting out of it’s misery……

The plucky and nimble Katuschan, had been badly damaged by fire from the Needlefangs and the Butcher, was despatched finally by the Gordrake.  However the Angkor, Decimator and Caged Gun Worm were now too far from the guns of the main ships of the elven fleet to be stopped from linking up with the main fleet sent by Ironjawz.  To rub Sea Salt into superating wounds the Caged Gun Worm, at immense peril to itself, despatched the injured Butcher to at least try and balance the scales after the tragic loss of The Arbiter and Infernox - brave heroic dwarves one and all - but all in pursuit of a tremendous dwarf victory! 

The remaining Butcher was towards the West surrounded now by ghostly hulks.  The vaunted Soulbane was steering a course of South-South West leaving it’s flimsy Needlefangs and Gordrake to fend for themselves.  Despicable behaviour!

Next time Ambush: Wrack & Ruin

8th Army: 11th Sikh Regiment

Something a little different to my normal Sci-fi or Fantasy fare with the first of the troops for our planned venture into North Africa for the desert campaign.

We plan to play the new V for Victory rules by Studio Tomahawk which pits platoon sized forces against each other in a mainly infantry skirmish. The rules contain lists for Europe 44-45 so we will need to do a little bit of adaptation, but not much.

For my forces I've gone with Perry and their excellent range of plastic and metal WW2 miniatures. Part of that range is some rather nice metal Sikh heads to fit on their plastic box set and Sikh crewed heavy weapons. Given the active part the Indian Army played in the desert battles then it seemed like an excellent chance to paint something a little different and get the men of the 4th Infantry Division on the table. These will represent men of the 4th Battalion, 11th Sikh Regiment.

The rules need you to keep a track of team leaders with most sections being split into two Teams each with a leader who you do all the measuring and LOS determining from. So first up is the HQ section which consists of a 2nd Lieutenant on his own (it's lonely at the top) and a second team of a Sergeant and two men.

In this case my C/O is actually from the mortar set but with his commanding presence and binoculars he looks just the man to carry the Indians to victory.

I've also painted up no.1 section which again is split into two teams. The first team is lead by a Corporal and contains the Bren gun and two riflemen with the second team being lead by a Lance Corporal accompanied by three riflemen. All the team leaders have (or are counted as having) Thompson SMG's which give extra close range firepower in the rules.

I'll go into the force building another time but you can reinforce your sections and also add more Thompson's is you want to build a more close assault orientated force.

I've also been working on some terrain for the troops to hide behind and as well as buying some of the new desert hills from S&A Scenics I've also repurposed some of the old green ones I had to make into wadi sides. I did this by cutting them in half and repairing the sides with some Polyfila. This gives a reasonable effect with minimal effort, always a good result.

Ill Tides: A Draw from the (Iron) Jawz of Defeat Ambush/995 points/Caravan Ambush/Draw

What magnificence, what could Sycorax do with just one of those beasts? The other Iron Casters would bend to his will! But no, individual glory must be set aside now to thwart the blind greed and hubris of those piratical scum at whose head that She-Devil shrieks. Those Elves must be stopped from harnessing the power of those beasts otherwise Sycorax's plans will be nothing but charred embers in the fires of the Abyss.

Zor'damos was clearly planning on the deftness of her horde to slip past the lumpen squat menace in her way. This would be easy. The dull-witted Sycorax had drawn up that vile unimaginable foulness on the right by the wood along with the Molten Menace - the so-called Infernox - the Gargoyles and those lumbering and greatly overrated stone trolls. This was an obvious mistake and weakness. She would rely on her vaunted Princes of Death, the Impalers, and terrifyingly spectral Phantoms to control these worms.

On the left Zor'damos was bringing the majority of her host to bear. Her beasts of war capably corralled and protected by intimidating phalanxes of Corsairs and if this wasn't enough yet more Corsairs were trembling at the back content to let their less craven kin push the dwarves aside and no doubt fall in the process. The flying cutters too were here in support but are always wary of a hearty clash preferring to leave the dying to others.

Opposing this Sycorax had bristling fire from the Decimators, the phlegmatic resolve of the Blacksouls and the blood frenzy of his own Beasts of Hell. His place was here with his own kind.

The dwarves were cautious in their advance not wanting to overcommit. On the right the Princes of Death were hesitant, seemingly wary, initially, of the monstrous fiends forged from iron and flesh.

On the left those brigands were swept up in a tsunami of hubris and one band was shattered by the inferno unleashed by the Decimators', a sole mauling Beast and the righteous fury of Ariagful himself wielded by Sycorax - perhaps this would be harder than thought Zor'damos mused.

Nothing for it. Zor'damos herself threw herself against the encouraged Decimators who were clearly thrown off balance and failed to dispatch her to the fiery furnace with her brethren. The mauling beasts swept from the hill against the pirates but they held only to destroy these hell hounds in turn. The redoubtable Blacksouls were driven on by Sycorax to avenge their beastly comrades but by who knows what devillry the buccaneers prevailed just long enough for the Void-Skiffs to crash into their exposed flanks and victory now was surely all Zor'damos's. Or was it?

On the other flank the sentinels of the rocks inexorably shuffled to where Zor'damos had eyed the escape of her beasts - this would be a close run thing.

The Princes of Death spied an opening to engage the Grotesques and catch them part in the open - the margins of war are cruel - and these tortured beasts, deprived of their hideous charge, were eventually overwhelmed. The Molten Menace made short work of the Phantoms and like Hero's of old crashed into the Impalers to pin them in place.

Seemingly Zor'damos had not accounted for the dextrosus Gargoyles who swarmed the rear of her column - Sycorax was in sight of destroying this horde but a lone wiccan with her shameful sorcery got lucky and deprived the dwarves of delivering a fearsome blow.

All was in flux, all was in the balance....

Sycorax himself hurled molten boulders in fury against those beasts - in his black heart he wanted them for himself for his own dastardly ends - and his efforts reflected his own confliction. These largely span off or landed harmlessly. The stone golems though were not to be so conflicted - they hurled themselves against one of the magnificent creatures without pity or admiration, tearing it asunder.

The cowardly flying elves targeted The Ironjawz himself causing him to leave his beleaguered force in some peril with the Titans of Rock standing between the Void Skiffs and total Elven victory....And stand firm they did, literal Pillars of the Earth.

Zor'damos managed to extricate one of her prize only before night fell and she was forced to remove the remainder of her host lest greater loss befell them.

The Elves had one of these creatures now but two were now beyond their duplicitous reach - for now.

Sycorax knows he has to regroup and fling those privateer scum back into the cold dark oceans to realise his own majestic plans.

Next time: Armada - Trapped!