MADNight Fri 5th March - Battle report

[Dranask]

A very busy night and hopefully we will have some more battle reports.

The usual culprits, Mark and Jason were playing 40K still getting their heads around the new rules and enjoy every minute of it so much so I missed all the games others were playing, here however may be an accurate summary.
I will be corrected if i have erred - I erred and have been corrected, the correct games are shown below.
Chris and Trev were playing another game af Warhammer Ancients
Keith and Damien were playing Warmachine
James and Rupert, were playing Legends of the Old West
Gareth and Florent were playing a game new to me; Helldorado

here is a link to the original thread.

For the moment read on the continuing saga of Septus' attempts to spread the word of grandfather Nurgle, whilst the embitered Iron warriors take pleasure in attempting to stop them.

[Legion]

Septus and the bad nought day


It was a pleasant afternoon on planet Krookenmeldunglumdimmering 42. That was, till the Iron warriors came. Septus had been teaching the finer arts of Nurgle spawn control to his brethren when a group of Iron warriors burst through the undergrowth and trod on a vial of infectiousness created by the holy father Nurgle himself.

So, enraged to the point of being really ticked off he bellowed orders for the attack and his two squads and dreadnought obeyed. Well, nearly everyone obeyed. Golgoth the dreadnought encased psychopath had a bit of a seizure brought on by the fact that he had just been re-incarnated. He couldn’t tell friend from foe and was in fact re-living a battle that occurred long before the great heresy. So he shot at the nearest living thing with his entire arsenal. Men of Nurgle died.

Meanwhile the sneaky and cunning enemy had sneakily sneaked into a sneakily tactical position and started laughing at the Nurgle loving squad staring in disbelief at their “brother” dreadnought. They then fired a good volley of rounds at them just to finish off the moment. Septus was left with his left flank decimated to 3 men and an emotionally disturbed Golgoth.

The right flank seemed untouchable and continued forward. Septus took on the central role by lumbering down the middle toward the enemy. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on down the left but it seemed to him that the newbie’s on his right were faring better so he followed them. Finally they saw a chance at revenge and fired at the enemy with everything they had. Septus had tried out his new psychic gift of cleaving a chaotic wind which surrounded five iron warriors. After the smell had dissipated one of them dropped dead from holding his breath too long. The Iron warriors chuckled and returned fire.

Melta guns blazed out toward the dreadnought and splintered alien vegetation in a cacophony of explosions and bolter rounds shredded the low lying plants into a dust that covered the battlefield. And that was about it. Septus shrugged, checked the right flank, their Aspiring champion looked back at him and shrugged back and then returned fire.

Melta guns boomed at the Iron warriors dreadnought, Golgoth even managed to kill some enemy. The left flank seemed to be holding its own and the right flank had come to some advantageous positioning on the enemy dreadnought. All seemed to be going so well. As the dust settled something strange happened. For a moment all those present started checking their weapons for misfires. Not just the Nurglites, the Iron warriors too.

The calm broke, and the storm continued. The left flank fell into a melee they knew was certain death and Septus hit the middle squad with his mighty weapon “Manreaper”. The right flank were still checking the melta guns and arguing about who had last cleaned the weapons. The Iron warrior’s dreadnought loomed over the shrubbery and fired off a salvo over their heads. I think someone wet themselves but that could have just been an oil leak in the power armour.

Septus was just getting into his usual murdering momentum when the Iron warriors broke and ran off. The last survivor of Golgoth`s confusion looked around himself to find he was the sole survivor of the right flank melee. Golgoth was just starting to catch up with the battle and was actually starting to aim at the enemy. That’s when the Iron warrior’s boss decided to actually kill something. Septus stared at the gaping slash across his face-plate and realised he was looking at his own feet. His final breathless words were…” Oh bugger…not again….”

Golgoth finally reached optimum range and completely annihilated a bush with extreme prejudice, followed shortly by a very skilfully played ploy of lying down in a pool of his own blood. The Iron warriors seemed to have got their melta guns working. Meanwhile, the right flank had disabled the dreadnought and were sneaking round behind it to give those wicked melta guns a second chance at redemption. They misfired again.

They retreated behind a bush to sort out the finer points of melta gun maintenance. This involved the aspiring champion and his two non melta wielding brothers beating the two melta wielding brothers to death. Well, it would have been death had it not been for the Iron warrior and dreadnought shredding said bush and squad to pieces. And so Krookenmeldunglumdimmering 42 fell to the Iron warriors.


And to surmise, I really need to throw better dice at those critical moments where I have a good tactical advantage.....the ones I threw.....so many ones! mind you, Mark seemed to be having the same trouble. It really does create the skirmish atmosphere where at each turn you could both take the day at any moment. The small table size actually gets the combat going fast, and all "tactics" become not so much a matter of positioning but more of "who do I shoot before I stab them ?". Good game, I lost, which I seem to be practising an awful lot of.

ALL HAIL NURGLE!!
ALL HAIL THE FATHER!!

[Dranask]

With friends like these - A battle report

Dranask looked around him so this was Krookenmeldunglumdimmering 42. In the name of all the demons of a united chaos what the kind of name is that for a planet? They might as well have called it ‘Pistulant fart on the face of Grandfather Nurgel’ for all it mattered and for that matter, why couldn’t the blue armoured off spring of the tube riddled dried husk of a undead Empror clean up all of Nurgle’s crap.
In fact why couldn’t Nurgle’s space Marines just enjoy the simple pleasures of rape and pillage. Why must they spread whatever their new pox was around all the planets? If they loved disease so much they should try keeping it to themselves, leave the clean ones clean, give the ‘cowed humans’ chance to recover between hits, basic strategy, the ‘Dark Eldar’ have been successfully doing it for millennia so should chaos.

Spotting the Nurgle addled marines ahead; Dranask waved his men into position. He’d attached himself to a rebuilt squad; today would determine which of them would step up to become an Aspiring Champion for the moment he would take on that role. The insane remains of the previous Aspiring champion ‘Plasma Pete’ were in the Dreadnought that lagged behind him, to his right however two squads of Iron Warriors rushed forwards to attack, as instructed, like him, they waived an opportunity to fire and ran on forwards.
“Shit,” exclaimed Dranask as he crunched a vial of infectiousness underfoot. More dark curses were muttered and his men grinning braced themselves for attack the chances were that the Plague Marines would now be alerted. A burbling whine of expanding plasma and the resultant destruction of infected shrubbery close to the enemy’s dreadnought ensured their presence was most definitely noted. He would be having words with that idiot, sadly not only his choice of weapons reflected his previous existence but also his disobedience and impetuosity, maybe he should place the Plasma Cannon where the sun didn’t shine.

A rush of Plague marines on the right flank running towards his men with undue haste was explained as their dreadnought started firing wildly at them killing two of them. Behind the bushes in front of him Dranask saw a second squad keeping to cover and moving around them to take out the Dreadnought, he could ‘taste’ the hot metallic energy of a warming melta gun. Maybe with luck they’d resolve Plasma Pete for him. A sickly noxious cloud emanated from the Typhus Clone called Septus and surrounded the nearest squad of Iron Warriors after it had dissipated one lay still on the ground.

Without instruction the two right hand squads moved towards the charging Plague marines, firing at them and then the nearest charged in. He moved forwards with his men, firing at Septus, then he heard a roar as ‘Plasma Pete’ fired at his old squad, blowing one away and narrowly missing Dranask, who decided the plasma cannon was going to have to go in sideways.
Then all hell broke lose as they attacked Septus and just to confirm this was not his day Dranask’s Daemon weapon chose to assert its independence and turned on the wielder, wounding him and leaving him unable to attack that turn.

In the next phase he noticed his right flank being whittled away by the Plague marines and noted the PM dreadnought lumber forwards to assault the central squad it fired first killing one, the remaining squad members looked at each other and advanced rapidly to the rear out of assault range. On the other flank the PM squad took aim between the bushes and fired at the dreadnought, immobilising it.

His battle with Septus finished the daemon weapon had finally come to its senses, Septus the second lay dead as did Dranask’s squad. Looking up to the right flank he saw an aspiring champion atop a pile of bodies praising Nurgle, so charged off in that direction his men would be avenged, shouting encouragement as he ran past the central squad which recovered and fired at the dreadnought leaving it a smoking ruin.

He heard the burbling whine of expanding plasma and ducked, but this time ‘Plasma Pete’ had worked out who the enemy were and removed three of them. The remaining four moved through cover to get a better shot at the immobilised but far from impotent ‘Pete’.

The subsequent melee with the PM’s on the right flank was fast and furious, ‘snick, snick’ went the daemon weapon and head rolled away. He now turned back to help his remaining men.

The four Plague Marines fired their undercharged meltaguns at ‘Pete’ who strained forwards to kill them and swivelled in anger his feet still immobilised.
Charging up his plasma cannon he killed another as his brothers in arms charged forwards to kill them and fell trying. Dranask arrived to finish off the job and then stood next to ‘Pete’ eyeing the Plasma cannon warily they were all that remained standing on the field of battle.

In the ensuing silence he called down the rest of the Iron Warriors, they would clean the excess of Nurgle off the planet and garrison it. The four gods of chaos would rule it equally. Disarming Pete’s cannon he went to help the Apothecary save his men and cleanse the Plague marines, of Septus there was no sign, Grandfather Nurgle had called him back.

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As legion said, there was a plethora of ones rolled. The game swung from side to side, it could have been anyones. Great fun.

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Photos of the various games thanks to Secret Squirrel

Photos from the Club Night: