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Space Marines / Re: The Problem with terminators
« Last post by Grand Master Lomandalis on Today at 04:05:29 PM »
There is no way that a pure Deathwing list will ever be viable with Terminators in the state that they are.  I built a list that focuses around a shooty Deathwing-bomb, and it requires double Battalions to pull off.  Basically, it is a fun list to say "Look what I can do."  The only biker in the list is a Ravenwing Apothecary whose only job is to survive until turn 2.

2nd turn looks something like this:
  • Switch to Tactical Doctrine
  • -2 Command Points:  Combined Assault to bring in 10 Terminators w/ 2 Cyclone Missile Launchers with Belial right behind them
  • -3 CP:  Deathwing Assault
  • -1 CP:  Fury of the First in Movment Phase
  • -1 CP:  Fury of the First in Shooting Phase
  • -1 CP:  Adaptive Strategy in 3rd turn.

Cute, but definitely not worth the commitment.  Sadly, Ritual of the Damned continues the trend that the most efficient Dark Angel army is still one that is centred around the 2nd Company.  Thanks to Impeccable Mobility, I'm looking at a list that has 8 Land Speeders, including the Dark Shroud (Sammy, 2 Talonmasters, 2 Tornadoes, 2 Typhoons, Darkshroud).
Eldar / Re: Getting back into the game....
« Last post by Satanic Joker Jester on Today at 03:46:18 PM »
so i need 3 books to play one army? jeez...right on though thank you.  I don't know how competitive the players are where I live now, will be my first time playing in this town. 

I guess I'll just try to run something similar to what i used to play, which was a fairly competitive list and go from there.

Space Marines / Re: The Problem with terminators
« Last post by Gal'rgae Neverborne on Today at 03:43:51 PM »
Just reading what you've written, there are three answers.

Does it make a (pure) Deathwing army for viable - Absolutely not.

Deathwing models just don't have the firepower to make shooting twice viable. To put this in context of how wrong GW has got Terminators in general, they've gone from 2 shots at 24" to, 4 Shots at 24" if stationary & 8 With command points to now 4" all the time and still shots with command points and they are still bunk. - Grade (E-)

Does it make a Death Raven army viable - No.

There's just no way a Death/Raven army is going to generate the command points (and use them pragmatically)  to pull this off, and the instances where you could do it, deep strike is too easy to screen off with cannon fodder, and the few instances you could do it with no obvious counter you're putting to many command points into this.. (F)

Does it help a Greenwing army? Well yeah, I've got to give you that as it's an option. But ultimately this is actually probably the worse use.

However, you'd need to take terminators, and enough to make it viable, and Ravenwing bikes, and fill out the FoC. And the points you're committing is now to great not to use this. And there will always be a better strategery for your army build - In the context to what you could have in a "greenwing army" (F-)
Eldar / Re: Getting back into the game....
« Last post by Partninja on Today at 01:53:52 PM »
Point costs are in the codex (in the back) but the recent chapter approved (an annual update book) has updated points for every unit in the game.

You'll want the codex, chapter approved 2019, and psychic awakening: Phoenix rising campaign book for all current rules and points values.

Viability of units depends on your gaming group. Competitive circles lists will look much different than more friendly games.

Mechanized and mobile Eldar lists are still quite good.
Eldar / Getting back into the game....
« Last post by Satanic Joker Jester on Today at 01:07:55 PM »
Hey guys, I used to play warhammer avidly, but haven't played in something like 9 years now?  I'm looking to get back into the hobby, but looking through the forum and etc I'm super confused.

I realize lots of changes have come and gone, and some major overhauls seem to have come as well.  What i'm wondering i guess is,

Would my older army lists still hold some relevance?  And what books or resources do i need to actually write up an army list?  Seems like there is a lot out there now, and i heard the codex's don't even have the actual point costs now??

I used to field a lot of Wave Serpants and fire prisms/falcons, or run war walkers and wraithlords etc, usually more of a mobile firepower style play.  Still quite valid?

I'm going to be playing a into game next weekend most likely to try to get a feel for the state of the game now, just wondering what i need to get so i can be prepared as much as i can,


   The Ferryman’s raft drifted across the still waters of the Grand Canals. A soft breeze swept in from the eastern horizon at its back and pushed it gently until it glided across the canal at a steady pace. The Ferryman himself, a middle-aged man of dark chestnut skin and an intricate beard of black braids laced with gold, disturbed the waters only occasionally with a dip of the oar.

   Tabia cast a nervous glance toward the Dam’s Gate. The massive gateway and dam hybrid loomed ever nearer, to the point that she could spy the outlines of guards and the lanterns they held up to the night air. Yet the nearest series of ramparts that would let her onto the battlements of the first wall still seemed impossibly distant.

   “How long?” Tabia questioned insistently. “I do not have all night.”

   “An ill night for ill-temperament, my daughter.” The Ferryman glanced into her eyes with a father’s mirthful smile. “You need not fear the perils of the night on my raft. Gaze about you.” He gestured with one grand sweep of his arms toward the leagues of open, still water between them and the nearest dockyard or city gate. “Your woes are already long behind you. We shall arrive soon, may as well make yourself comfortable.”

“You have my thanks,” Tabia feigned a grateful smile, but still twiddled her fingers restlessly. 

“It is no trouble,” The Ferryman replied. “Still, a bad way to go for that young woman who hounded you so mercilessly. I pity the shameful state of her remains. She learned her lesson too late, but it is far from the final hour for you, young lady.”

“What are you playing at?” Tabia cast the Ferryman an irritated, skeptical look. “You know that I’ve commited murder?”

“What person would not have heard that Zarquin’s zealous screams?” The Ferryman clucked his tongue. “Half of the Grand Canals must have heard her death throes. But rest assured, my daughter, only the warriors of the Zarquin Guard would care to take notice. Us lowborn must be cunning, we must remain above all things.”

“Save your own skin, then.” Tabia sneered. “Just get me where I’m going, ferryman.”

“We approach the ramparts,” The Ferryman reported, gesturing toward the dockyards that rapidly approached. “Fifty pieces of copper or five pieces of silver is all that I ask in return.”

Tabia stared across the cyan waters and took in the details of the dockyards in the near distance. Where the other end of the Grand Canal held only a scarce amount of ships at best, the actual dockyards of Tu’shik were filled to the brim with hundreds of anchored vessels. The gilded walkways were buried beneath bustling crowds that filtered in and out of the Tu’shik’s maritime district.

Patrols of Zarquin Guard hastened through the crowds, breaking apart the masses to achieve their own enigmatic whims.

“Thank you again,” Tabia repeated genuinely this time. She reached into her purse and produced several pieces of silver. She dropped them into the Ferryman’s eager fingers. “You did not have to risk your neck for me, but you did anyway.”

“A coward like me deserves no apology,” The Ferryman grinned. “I’ve had chances to risk my neck, as you have done tonight. But for tonight, and some nights more, I am content simply to remain. Until one day, I can no longer simply just be. Jumanah guide your path, traveller.”

Tabia considered the strange man for a moment, puzzlement written on her features. An abrupt force seized the raft as it was jarred to a halt on the docks. The Ferryman did not wait for Tabia, he discarded his oar onto the raft and hurried up the ramparts for the safety behind the first wall.

Tabia remembered herself and climbed off of the raft and onto the limestone brickwork of the ramparts.

“Evening, my sister,” The grizzled voice of a Zarquin Guard made Tabia whirl around with an animated jump.

“Evening,” Tabia locked eyes with a puzzled, heavily scarred visage of a veteran warrior. His face was dimly lit by the smoldering torch he held in his hand. “What is his will, brother?”

“A raft with no ferryman.” The Zarquin Guard looked from Tabia to the abandoned raft behind her. He considered her for a long moment. He cursed to himself. “They spend too many hours drinking themselves to rock-bottom with the setting sun. In either case, I won’t bore you to death with the fines I’m about to heap on this poor bastard.

“I bid you safe travels by moonlight.”

Tabia nodded once and proceeded to vanish amidst the throngs of the nightly crowds. Hundreds of men and women, cloaked against the night, ascended the ramparts like a stream that had reversed course. As she neared the battlements of the first wall, urgent shouts began to swell like rumbling thunder in the dockyard below.

Tabia spared a parting glance behind her where the mysterious Ferryman’s raft lay unanchored. Gathered around the raft were Zarquin Guard, nearly a dozen in number, that had rowed in from the other side of the Grand Canal. The scarred veteran that had greeted Tabia earlier was being screamed at by the leader of the pack.

The Scarred One looked toward the rampart near the first wall and pointed in Tabia’s general direction. The dozen Zarquin did not idle long. They quickly scrambled up the ramparts, their warning shouts forging a path through the crowds. They would rapidly close upon Tabia at such a pace.

Tabia lowered her head and plunged further into the throngs of nightlife crowds. She found herself weaving through a labyrinth of battlements and ancient defenses that turned a solitary wall into the bulwark of a mighty bastion. Hushed curses and rebukes followed her increasingly hasty and reckless footsteps as she pressed through groups of Qarthite men and women at a time.

“Tabia,” A familiar voice cut through the shadows that clung to the claustrophobic stairs. They descended down into the dense urban sprawl of Tu’shik. “You were borne of the shadows, girl. Command them to do your bidding, do not let them disown you.”

Menacing, shouted warnings mingled with surprised cries and screams as the Zarquin Guard barreled through the crowds. Tabia rapidly descended the stairways, suddenly realizing that the crowds had thinned out to the point that she was practically alone.

 She cut pass shadowy alleyways, and small, dead-end spaces that lurked behind many of the luxury establishments. Small hanging gardens hidden behind massive iron gates barred the way into some areas. Other pathways still lead into the rear entrances of many well-lit establishments.

Everywhere she went, the sounds of mirth and laughter resonated from within many a hearth. However, out here in the desert cold and mist wreathed streets, only the quiet murmurs and lamentations of the ill-content echoed from the hidden crevices of the great city.

“This way, Tabia.” The voice called out to her again from an alley so brightly lit that it momentarily blinded Tabia to glance in its direction.

Tabia second guessed her intuition, as the voices of the Zarquin Guard shouted at passersby from scant feet behind her. She banished her thoughts and suddenly turned to descend the small staircase that spiraled further into the back-alley. Her sandals waded through rainwater that had collected enough to come up to her ankles. She gazed down the brightly lit path of the alleyway and could find nothing but barred door after barred door, until the pathway curved out of sight.

A score of footsteps shuffled down the spiral staircase behind her. The keening cry of swords unsheathed from their scabbards rang out in the midst of the alleway. Tabia did not move as they made to encircle her.

“That’s enough, damnable witch!” Tabia squeezed her eyes shut in resignation as the sharp voice of a woman shouted for her surrender. “Keep your hands off your hip, your arms still and away from your person. No sudden movements, yes?”

Tabia lifted her hands so that they dangled uselessly in the foggy air. She spun around to look her captors in the eye as they moved to surround her. Ten Zarquin Guard circled her with practiced ease, their swords readied to cut through Tabia in the blink of an eye if need be.

An amused smile graced Tabia’s lips as she noticed all of the Zarquin warriors were attempting in vain not to heave and haw for every scrap of air that they could get.

The young woman that seemed to be in charge stepped forward to come face to face with her prey. Her raven hair was pulled back into three separate braids, two dangling in front of her temples, and the other falling behind her neck. Her eyes sparkled like pieces of polished emerald, shining out of a face covered in ritual scarification.

The young woman gestured with a point of her chin. “It’s not every occasion that we get a Disciple burning one of our commanders onto death. You were reckless to think that you could simply walk away from that. Give me one word why I shouldn’t command all nine of my subordinates here to run you through, right here and now?”

“Alone.” Tabia replied.

“Alone?” The Zarquin Senior shrugged, her expression blank as an unwritten page. “I understand I said ‘one word’’, but you may elaborate.”

“We’re not alone.” Tabia insisted. “I am not your enemy, Zarquin. Shoushan threatened my life, I acted in defense of myself.”

The Zarquin Senior cast her gaze about the alleyway and considered Tabia for a long moment.

“If the presence of the Gods frightens you,” The Zarquin smiled grimly. “You should have rethought your most blatant murder.” She made a dismissive, cutting gesture. “Kill her. Make it precisely slow. Give me the head when you’re don-”

The crushing blow of a spiked club against the young woman’s skull made Tabia leap backward with an involuntary scream. The Zarquin Senior crumpled into the rainwater with a dull thud, her blood rapidly pooling around her leaking corpse.

The Zarquin nearest the stranger with the bloodied club masterfully parried the next savage strike. His comrade beside him cut down their assailant with a stroke of his sword.

Suddenly, the dozen barred doors that sealed off as many establishments from the alleyway were cast open in rapid succession. Out from the shadows emerged men and women garbed in the tattered robes of rogue slaves; a wild assortment of blades wielded in their hands.

The Zarquin did not idle, but roared their battle cries as the two factions clashed in the claustrophobic confines of the alleyway.

“A coward I was content to remain,” The Ferryman’s voice cut through the chaos by Tabia’s side.
“But tonight, I am no longer content simply to remain. Inspired by your bravery, one could say.”

Tabia considered the rogue for a long moment of shock. In the eyes of the Ferryman, revelation played out within both his and Tabia’s mind as they considered one another.

“Break the Disciple, brothers!” The Ferryman called out and thrust once for Tabia’s neck.

Tabia scrambled out of the spear’s trajectory as it hurtled past her. The weapon struck one of the Zarquin in the flank and forced him to cry out, but it did not fell him. The Zarquin seized the spear before the ferryman could wrench it free. The Qarthite warrior shattered the Ferryman’s nose with a broad swing of his shield.

Tabia hastily sketched runic patterns in the air and made the earth under a clutch of rogue slaves heave until it burst with torrential flames. The flames quickly caught hold of their flesh and clothes, made them writhe and scream until the Zarquin closed in and hacked them down without mercy.

A javelin flew threw the thick of combat and impaled a Zarquin through the small of her spine. She sagged downward to the earth in such a way that it seemed that she had purposefully fallen on the weapon.

Swords clashed back and forth, several of the rogue slaves limped away from the skirmish with hands on their cut open throats. Here and there, the sheer number of slashing and thrusting weapons saw a Zarquin pinned against the wall and stabbed to death.

Tabia sketched more intricate and bolder symbols until the very air shimmered with the searing heat of darting fire. Zarquin and former slave alike went to ground from the criss-cross of scorching blasts. Those too dull-witted to move were set alight and burned the same way Shoushan had.

“Disciple!” An unfamiliar pair of hands seized Tabia by the shoulders and forced her to crouch down from her own incendiary blasts. “Are you crazy? You’ll set half the city on fire, Tabia!”

“Who are you!?” Tabia demanded, but felt herself pushed through the ensuing combat.

More than once did a sword cleave downward to claim her head. More than once did a spear thrust directly for her heart. The unfamiliar pair of hands occasionally removed themselves from Tabia’s shoulders to strike away each weapon with practiced fluidity. Other enigmatic figures weaved through the combat, hueing through whoever deign strike out at them.

Warriors screamed and rogue slaves toppled into pools of their own split blood. As Tabia was guided through the chaos, so did the chaos itself seem to wane and calm until virtually there stood no member of the Zarquin Guard or rogue slave that had not been outright slain in the confusion.

Tabia glanced around her, and could see that death had claimed this particular back alley. Corpses littered the alley from one end to the next, all of them slackened and still in the strange angles and positions that they had died in.

“Their deaths were unnecessary.” A woman’s voice crept out of the shadows. Tabia only now realized that many of the torches that once lit the alley had been snuffed somehow and left much in darkness. “Slave or Zarquin, let them butcher one another till the end of the final breath of life. It is lamentable that we were forced to step in and decide their fates for them.”

A familiar woman stepped out of the shadows, but Tabia immediately sensed something was off about her. The shade of her braided hair was of rosy red and chestnut entwined. Four scars carved from a foe’s sword were etched upon a face already marked with some ritual scarification.

Where her voice should have been bright and cheery, Tabia could sense nothing of the sort from her morose tone. Eyes that shone like pits of emerald stared through Tabia as if she could see the essence of the cloying soul beneath.

Lastly, she was not dressed as a member of the Zarquin Guard. A quilted armor the color of storm clouds, raven feathers, framed with a gold trim, lent her the aura of a stalwart, immovable object.

“Honored Disciple Tabia,” The enigmatic stranger sketched an elegant bow. “I am Shoushan. Exemplar of the Exalted. You burned my younger sister onto death.”

   Tabia remained silent.

   “A wise decision.” Shoushan answered, her response surprisingly apathetic and cold. “I should not have burdened you with such revelations… but I felt that you should know.”

   “You have my sympathies,” Tabia cautiously replied. “I could not stay your sister’s hand. If you want honesty, Shoushan, she brought her own death upon herself.”

   “I agree with you, Tabia.” Shoushan’s nod was nigh-imperceptible. “But youth is reckless and untoward. Her death, too, was ultimately unnecessary.”

   “Will you decide if I am an unnecessary casualty also?” Tabia asked, her brow arched slightly. “No one would certainly blame you.”

   “Someone would,” Shoushan shook her head. “Someone I’ve sworn oaths of fealty to, that I’d rather not cross. We should not linger here before more of the Zarquin come to investigate. You can walk, can you? Then follow my lead. The Exalted shall see you before Erasyl’s throne.”

   Tabia remained rooted where she stood as Shoushan waded through the alley past her.

   “Why was your sister spying on me, Shoushan?” Tabia glanced over her shoulder. “No chance that she ambushed me by accident.”

   “A dozen Zarquin end up dead on your journey into the caverns,” Shoushan pondered aloud. “Their guide disappears, only to resurface sometime later. Did you not think that Erasyl would want to understand the nature of what you encountered in the reliquaries?

   “Enough trivial questions,” She barked. “If you will not walk, one of my sisters would gladly carry you.”

   “Fine,” Tabia conceded. “Though this is all really a great misunderstanding.”

   “Of course,” Shoushan’s shrinking voice carried down from the height of the spiralling staircase back onto the streets of Tu’shik. “You’d be one of the slain here if that were truly not the case.”
Age of Sigmar / Chronicles of the Asur (Hendonites vs Idoneth)
« Last post by Myen'Tal on Today at 12:22:25 AM »
Hendonites vs Idoneth
2000 PTS
Mission – Duality of Death

Sllysk of the Gouged pranced about the war torn courtyards of the Ondarspire. She danced, as the earth quaked from the fallout of the glittering aelven towers of the acnient enclave, now crumbled into ruin. Even with her sightless eyes, she heard ever sung note of the siege’s cacophony. She heard the notes, till blood streamed anew from out of the empty sockets where her eyes once took root.

“Rrreaave and Ssslaughter, my beautiful pleasure-seekers!” Sllysk howled in ecstacy as a brave Sea-Aelf rushed the Keeper of Secrets and thrust his spear straight through her chest. “Your lovely eyes, they’ll soon be mine!”

Sllysk’s sinistrous hand lashed out in a blur of motion. Before the Akhelian could even gasp, she plucked her fingers from out of his ruined sockets. She swallowed the aelf’s eyes in the same moment that she cleaved him in half with an effortless swing of her greatsword. As she did so, either of her masculine pincers gouged and tore into the flesh of passing Fangmora Eels.

“Bring me more aelves to glut my lusts upon!” Sllysk shrieked, the volume reaching such a pitch that any nearby aelf died from the explosion of their hearts. All around, blind daemonettes fought with the frenzy of ecstacy renewed. “Ondarspire falls for the Dark Prince!”


The ruins of Ondarspire were once resplendent, a glorious bastion of the reclusive Idoneth Deepkin. After several decades of constant siege, her towers finally fall from grace and cast down into rubble.

In the Garden Courtyard of the Ondarspire’s outer reaches, a great host of the Pretender Syllsk despoils the respledence of the Ondaric Enclave.

A minor realmgate, chained to realms now fallen and sworn to the Dark Prince, have spilled open in the Northwest Corner of the field. Toward the center of the field, in the northern portion of the courtyard, a dais that the Idoneth once cast their enslavement rituals upon their bond-beasts, has become an altar of sacrifice for the daemonettes. In the north east, the ruins of a grand observatory are now filled with corridors of slaughter and depredation.

In the center of the field, a great monument to the chaos gods has sprouted out of the earth to spread the Dark Prince’s defilement.

In the south, fecund sea gardens lay withered and destroyed in the wake of Sllysk’s rampage. The ruined gate blocks off several routes to a masoleum now damned with a gallery of sin.


Duality of Death

Two objectives to score this game, each parallel to the other and placed off center at an equal distance. Whoever holds the objective, holds priority. So if one hero is the first to score, then a second unit comes to claim the objective, one must remove both units before they can claim the objectivie themselves. If a hero is removed from the objective by a battleline unit, then the next priority falls to the second unit that has claimed the objective if they are still on it. So, hero, hero’s battline unit, then when the hero dies by an enemy unit trying to claim the objective, the priority falls onto the hero’s battleline unit that still holds the objective before it transfers to the enemy.

Heroes can automatically claim the objective if they slay an enemy hero with priority.
Honestly, one of the more confusing missions in the General’s Handbook!

Turn 1:

“You’ve proven yourself in the eyes of the Lochian Princes, Elon’drach. They say that you have done well, and have accomplished many missions for the sake of the Ondaric Enclaves. Is there truly no Hedonite or Daemon that knows not your name

“No, do not speak. I am not yet finished. Even as I endure this ceremony for the purposes of your promotion in the Akhelian Houses, the Ondarspire is threatening to collapse from endless siege… We’ve lost so many, my son.

“So bend your knee before my throne, and swear that in the event of my death, that you shall become a King worthy of leading in my stead. Swear that you’ll be the sword of the Idoneth. Swear that you’ll be the abyssal maw that’ll rip and tear the enemies of your people, until they are no more.

“Swear this, and rise a Lochian Prince of Ondaric. You do not understand how proud I am of my son. I hope you’ll endure these dark times to have one of your own, one day. Then you’ll know of the pride that I speak of.

“Now go forth, and drive these wretched slaves from out of the Ondarspire!”

There’s a disturbance within the misty magical domes that house the Ondarspire beneath the Evergreen Sea. A sudden gathering of shadows, melded into the forms of writhing sea beasts just beyond the outer reaches of the Garden Courtyards.

The Ondaric Enclaves arrive on the field of battle, but approach the site of the siege with caution. They have granted the Hendonites of Slaanesh the opportunity to sally forth, and make the first point of contact. Cavorting daemonettes bound forward from out of the northwest and claim the objective there. The bladebringer and the Harpist follow suit to solidify their claim on this place. The Keeper of Secrets, Sllysk, listens intently for signs of the enemy. She cautiously strides forward alongside the daemonettes.

Across the rest of the Hendonites battleline, no sudden moves are made.

Turn 1:

The Akhelians on the western flank surge forward to meet the Hendonites on the objective. A squad of three Morrsar Guard rush around the flank, while a unit of Allopexes move to create a diversion in the daemonette masses. A lesser Akhelian King seeks the glory of riding this area of the Garden of Slaanesh, and rides into battle alongside the Allopexes into the Daemonettes.

The three man Morrsar squad open up with everything they have on the bladebringer chariot and scythe seven out of nine wounds on it. Between the Allopexes’ harpoons, fins, jaws, and the Akhelian King, wounds are exchanged with the daemonettes, but the daemonettes perish in droves.

Turn 2:

Double turn! The Idoneth seize the initivative and now it’s Flood Tide. Run and charge! The rest of the Akhelian forces commit to an all out assault on the sixty daemonettes hunkered in the northeast within the halls of the observatory.

With due haste, Elon’drach claims the objective in the east, while he sends his forces forward.
The run rolls for all of my units were mixed, and I ended up spending like two or three auto-run command abilities on each of my units. But, they did make their charges with gusto! Basically, a long single file line of six akhelians, leviadon in the middle, and six more akhelians made contact with both daemonette war parties.

Both Morrsar Guard squads unleash their biovoltaic blasts in one massive volley. Over twenty daemonettes are blasted out of reality between both units. The Akhelians crash into the heart of the foe, their eels shredding through daemon flesh and voltspears punching through their black hearts.

By the end of the combat, all sixty daemonettes lay strewn amidst the crumbling halls of the observatory, their corpses fading back into the aether.

In the west, things are not going as planned. Sllysk wades into the combat with her daemonettes and promptly, both units put the allopexes down as well the Akhelian King. The Bladebringer fights twice and shreds two of the three man Morrsar unit, leaving one alive.
About 11 daemonettes come back after they ‘blink’ in the battleshock phase.

Turn 3:

“Foolish imbeciles!” Sllysk screamed in agonized outrage. She tracked her greatsword back and forth through the crowd of daemonettes, lopping away limbs and heads without thought. “Protect this arcane secret! Issue our sisters forth from the Palaces!”

“Your worship…” One of the Siren’s cooed in Sllysk’s ear. “Our war parties… they’ve been slaughtered to a man. Perhaps we should rethink—”

“You do not get to think, slave!” Sllysk interrupted and asnwered with a dismissive wave. “Protect this site with your lives, or I’ll dine on your souls in the aelflings’ stead!”

A unit of twenty daemonettes are summoned. There are about thirty daemonettes left on the field in total, a Keeper, a Bladebrigner chariot on one wound, and a Harpist.

Keeper manages to heal the chariot for one wound. The daemonettes and the keeper form a circle around the harpist, who is still anchored on the objective.

The surviving daemonettes of the previous skirmish form another line just beyond the circular perimeter formed by the Hendonites. The bladebringer snaps her whips behind them.

They wait for the Idoneth to come.

Turn 3:

Lots of surging forward across one flank to the next. Also, a mesmerizing mirror endless spell from the Hendonites is summoned onto the field… the end.

Turn 4:

Eager for battle and scenting that the Idoneth are near, Sllysk gracefully advances up the steps of the sacrificial shrine where a six man unit of Morrsar haveanchored themselves. The twenty man squad of Daemonettes lope in after her.

The Hendonites sought to counter attack and destroy me, but they fail their ability to force my units to fight last. The Leviadon wades into the midst of the daemonettes, slicing through their flesh on his massive scythed fins and chewing on them with his crushing jaws. The daemonettes are no more. The Morrsar Guard bravely pile in to attack Sllysk, but only two are truly in range to do any damage. In spite of the odds, the two Akhelians strike again and again, until eight wounds are peeled off the Keeper of Secrets.

Sllysk finally retaliates, and fights twice. She hews down the eels without effort.

Turn 4:

At this point, I am sorely loosing the objective game… and I absolutely have to kill that harpist and anything on the western objective. I’m not even certain if it’s possible to win at this point! Once again it’s flood tide. My Leviadon swoops into the last unit of daemonettes, while the last unit of three morrsar guard fly behind them and tackle the chariot. Alas, not good enough charge rolls to make it into the Harpist!

The daemonettes are vanquished in the Leviadon’s jaws and the Morrsar finally put that cursed chariot down!

But at this point, I have not captured the objective and it is simply not enough to come back and win the game.

Alas, I conceded!

Final score:

We calculated the score based on what would happen in the fifth round by the way!

What an awesome game! It came down to the fifth turn, but it was an uphill battle for sure! If I did a few things differently, I could have won the game, but, alas, that’s how it is!

Great game, and as always, thanks to my opponent!
Age of Sigmar / Re: Lumineth Realm-Lords (And LVO AoS Stuff)
« Last post by Alienscar on Yesterday at 02:06:32 PM »
I don't mind the pose for Teclis, it would look better if he was by himself, the BIG problem is the giant thing on his head, its just too impractical and looks dumb.

Actually I think in this view it is Celenaar's headdress that is the big problem. That is the size of Celenaar's head and headdress seems too big when compared to Teclis.

I also think the unnatural pose of Teclis undermines the whole look of the diorama.

To be frank it smacks of sculpting by numbers if you get what I mean.
Projects Blog / Re: My Aeldari and Aelf
« Last post by Nutty on Yesterday at 04:55:27 AM »
Ah that makes sense; it looks very natural but I've never seen cracks that large with the GW stuff. I usually apply it over a thin coat of dried PVA and that helps it stick; but I'll look into some similar kind of crackle medium for sure.

I had a lot of fun playing Tau during 5th edition; they were my first 40k army. The 5th edition rules really rewarded a playstyle that revolved around mobile firepower, which I found really enjoyable.
Age of Sigmar / Re: Lumineth Realm-Lords (And LVO AoS Stuff)
« Last post by Sir_Godspeed on January 24, 2020, 08:57:32 PM »
@Godspeed: You know Forge World is bringing the Old World back!

Who knows how much that'll cost out wallets though lol.

It's still a valuable IP I guess, lol. But jokes aside, I am quite pleased to hear that, though given the long waiting time I'm keeping my expectations fairly low - I'm not sure it will entail much beyond just a limited "print on demand" miniature range or maybe just some prepackaged battalions or something. Staying sober on this one.
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