Da Tally of Ouch-Makin'

The dust has settled on WoofBoot VII, and once again, I engage in the traditional naval-gazing of my army...

(as opposed to the army-gazing of my navy, which I seldom do)

Bonekrunk Stonesplitter

Savage Orc Warboss

168 points

Battle Honours

Great Eagle, Glade Guard, Dryads, Hell Pit Abomination, Chaos Ogres, Hammerers.

As with the preceding greenskin army, I couldn't resist the temptation to go for full warboss (the model helped swing my decision) and he proved to be something of a mauler in close combat.

While he would be expected to shatter the fragile elves, he also had no trouble taking down Monsters, Monstrous Infantry (single-handed, when there was nothing else for it) or Elite Infantry. You name it, he'd pick up his six S6 dice and pound it to gristle.

... assuming he lived long enough to strike a blow, that is. Poor Bonekrunk died in three of the five battles - two of which were in close combat (I'll overlook the unfortunate final turn when a crossbow volley of five '1's managed to pluck him out the ranks). Both K'zak's killing blow and Queek's barrage of special rules were enough to bring him down - although I think both would have struggled to endure his counter-strokes. So next time, I'd want to look at an Initiative-booster, like the Golden Sigil Sword.

As for his other qualities. I forgot to use his Waaagh! power in all but one of my battles (very bad time to remember a one-off special rule - heading into a crucial fight when the blood's pumping), and I didn't notice his Ld 9, which implies I was passing a lot of tests, making it an invaluable asset.

Final Grade

Bring 'Em On.

Savage Orcs vs Dwarves: The Fate of Gazarkhame

Big Pikkle blew gently on the slow match, bringing the burning tip to a bright orange glow. "How long before the charges detonate?" Little Pikkle asked him.

"Grungi alone knows," said Big Pikkle. The dwarven expedition had fought hard to get to the depths of Gazarkhame, suffering many defeats on the way.

Already the warp-spawned daemons controlled the upper levels, having beaten off every other contender. But if the dwarves could seal the entrance to this accursed hold, then their work would be done. It was only a matter of time.

"Holy greenskins!" shouted Little Pikkle. "Orcs!"

"Thrice-cursed savages!" Big Pikkle tore at his beard. The bitterest of their foes had chosen a fine moment to offer battle. He picked up his axe. "I shall lead out the hammerers to delay them. Our war machines will cover us. You must stay and defend the mining tower. Keep out the Grobi until the fuses blow, no matter what."

The Dwarves girded themselves for the final battle. Even at the cost of their lives, Gazarkhame must be buried.

Savage Orcs vs Warriors of Chaos: No Guts, No Glory

Bonekrunk scratched at the stitches around his neck. That stunty treasure couldn't be far off now, and yet another army had turned up to contest for it. In the dank caverns beneath the earth, his Waaagh! had been confronted by...

... well, he didn't know what they were. There was a bit of everything in this army. Marauder horsemen, dragon ogres, armoured warriors, chaos hounds and ogre bulls. No point in trying anything fancy, he decided. Just get stuck in and thump whatever's in front of you.

The chariot and giant both raced forward, eager to start fighting. But Ramgut's lads were dragging their feet again, arguing the toss over something or other. Bonekrunk was having doubts about his shaman's reliability, a feeling that wasn't assuaged when the Shaman suddenly bodged his spell and wounded himself with his own magical feedback.

Savage Orcs vs Skaven: Challenging Times

"Rats," spat Bonekrunk Stonesplitter.

"Wot's da matter?" asked Ramgut, eyeing his warboss for a sign of weakness.

"Rats," Bonekrunk pointed to the far end of the cavern. Two regiments of Skaven had emerged from the side tunnels of the Gazarkhame, almost as if they had been waiting for them.

One of the units was unusually well-ordered and clad in good armour, more like 'ooman soldiers than ratmen. Lumbering out before both troops was a disgusting mass of warped flesh - an Abomination from the dreaded Hell Pit.

"Scared, boss?" Shaman Ramgut was wondering if, once again, he would need to take charge of the Waaagh!

"Stoopid runt!" Bonekrunk clouted the shaman accross the head. "I ain't scared a' no squeaky warpstone-chewers! Now git over to Da Brave 'Arts and hold da flank. I'm taking da lads down the middle."

Savage Orcs vs Wood Elves: Gork Steps In

They must be getting close to the stunty treasure now, Shaman Ramgut thought, because the pointy eared tree-huggers had come out to play. He could see the puny units of archers and tree-people flitting around on the other side of the battlefield.

To his left, Bonekrunk Stonesplitter clattered forward, accompanied by the chariot and the giant, eager to get close. But after the disastrous start to their Waaagh!, Ramgut wasn't going to trust their bone-headed boss to do anything right. If they were going to win this battle, he would have to take charge.

Calling upon the power of Mork, he sought out the pointy-eared spellsinger who led the Wood Elf army. Ramgut saw the elf's surprise as crackling Waaagh! energy appeared in front of her and formed the shape of a grinning orc's head.

Daemons vs Warriors

K'zak, fresh from the glorious battle and massacre of the orcs, was feeling confident and marched the horde into the centre of the field again.

The cannon and Bloodcrushers took one flank, although the crushers were poised to head towards the ogres in the centre of the line, rather than around the outside.

The small unit of heavily-armoured warriors, led by their sorcerer lord, made station behind a wooden fence; the dragon ogres hid behind a forest; the ogres snarled and faced off against the horde; and on the right wing, war hounds and horsemen skipped forward uncontested.

Savage Orcs vs Daemons: the Skull Swapmeet

The horde of red daemons spread from one one end of the hill to the other. Next to it, a bizarre cannon appeared to be cruising around on the back on a weird chariot. On the far flank, three massive juggernauts pawed at the ground.

Bonekrunk Stonespitter licked his lips. His tribe were used to krumping tribes of nomadic humans in the dustlands of their home. This looked to be an altogether tougher prospect.

"Maybe give this one a miss, boss?" asked Grunt, the standard bearer of his Big 'Uns.

"Yer cowardly, git!" Bonekrunk spat back, adding a tap with his axe for good measure. "Dey is nuffik but a load of pansy imps! And we ain't missing out on that stunty bonanza!"

Unexpected Guests

For what it's worth, my army selection for the Woffboot would have gone as follows.

The U.N.

Command           

Baeloth the Unadorned 

Level 2 Chaos Sorceror with the Lore of Death, mounted on a Gorebeast Chariot and equipped with a Talisman of Endurance and Chaos Familiar- 330

Core                      

The Undaunted 

20 Chaos Warriors with shields, full command and a Gleaming (if Black) Pennant - 335

The Doom of Gazarkhame

Gorri Slatebreak set his heavy pack down and mopped his sweating brow with a blood-stained gauntlet. Behind him, the rest of the Ironbreakers moved into position, their grim faces crowded with determination. They were close now. Too close to give in to failure. 

They were exhausted, whittled down to a few survivors. The eerie stands of stone trees that sprouted everywhere in the dim caverns of Gazarkhame had taken their toll. Gorri had seen Dwarves turn into prancing, poetry-spouting lunatics, hugging the granite boles of the carvings as they capered. Those who'd managed to keep their brains from melting had been ambushed by Skaven, set upon by orc savages and stalked by lurking horrors from beyond. 

Those who were left were a vicious elite, determined to see their job done. And now they were here, finally, in the very deepest foundations of the hold. He glanced over across the the final cavern, a stony expanse of shadowy, tree-lined rock that could hide any number of foes. The two great foundation pillars stood proud in the centre, both carved with heart-sickening root and leaf emblems that spiralled upwards to the basements of the hold above. At least the stones at the base gave them a bit of cover, even if they'd been carved to look like roots and ferns.

The other engineer team was in position. What was left of their other forces were scattered through the cavern, hurriedly finding ambush positions or setting traps. There wasn't much time. 

Gorri knelt by his pack, adjusting the straps and quickly checking the contents. Fifteen sealed packets of the finest black powder, linked by fuses and primed with blasting caps. It was good to go, he just hoped he had enough time to set the packets into position. If they could destroy even one pillar, Gazarkhame would perish.

They would be too, of course. It was a suicide mission. But they'd all known that before they came. Gazarkhame had to be destroyed at any cost.

"Here they come!" hissed Duthri, grabbing his crossbow pointing out into the darkness. Gorri looked up - sure enough, shadowy forms were flitting from tree to tree in the outer limits of the cavern. "Gods, they're all round us! They're in the trees!"

Gorri narrowed his eyes, ground his teeth and then hefted the pack. Trees. Drong damn them, he'd see them all shattered or die trying. 

"Bring 'em all down!" he yelled, and scrambled into the thicket of stone roots.

The Doom of Gazarkhame is a Warhammer Narrative Battle Scenario for 2 or more players. 

New! 

Exciting! 

Completely Unplaytested!

Filler Night

Okay, not all fillers. In fact, only a couple. I'm new to the idea of unit fillers, but I'm already a fan. Adding levels or a sense of spectacle to a unit seems like a great idea, although it's almost certainly out of my scope and price range for now. But I have a few ideas, including the possible use of some Hobbit scenery. We'll see, though, I don't want to chop that up on a whim.

The goblin cut short what would have otherwise been a pleasantly long walk on the short pier.

But in terms of having a few decorative options, I keep running into this guy from the Bag of Limitless Minions: - 

Remember when this was even an option?

A survivor of my copy of Battle Masters, which probably deserves a nostalgic column itself at some point, this guy is a Marauder Bowman. The punk look died with the army list option, thankfully. Not amazing miniatures, but they've got a lot of character, somehow. I'd already painted this one, but he was very pasty. A quick lick of paint improved things no end, other than his face. His blurry, hideous face. 

Frown of concentration or dreadful 80s  'tache?
You decide.

WoffBoot VII imminent

WoffBoot VII imminent... 

Less than 2 days until WoffBoot VII starts. So I thought I would rehash Stylus’s original post with the final posting and also try and get an idea of timing of arrivals (for food and game potential).

Dates: 26th-28th April

Open House

• Friday - starts at noon (for those who can) 0-2 battles each?
• Saturday - full day 2-4 battles each?
• Sunday - concludes at noon 1 battle each?

Expected Arrivals (colours imply my certainty based on prior conversations):

• Kasfunatu – Hmm, I wonder
• Stylus – 2pm Friday
• East - 2pm Friday
• Reinbowarrior - 8pm Friday
• Leofa – 8pm Friday
• Yalfrezi – 12pm Saturday

Alt Terrain Vehicle

Given that the entire Woffboot happens deep in the echoing caverns of the lost Dwarven hold, I thought that Ben ought to repaint and redesign all the available scenery to relect this. He said no, so I wrote this optional set of terrain rules.

I'm also working out a potential final scenario, that anyone with time or inclination could play out to determine the final fate of Gazarkhame, but it's another optional one. Maybe a tie-breaker if needed?

If both generals so desire, use the following table for instead of the Mysterious Forests one in the rulebook.

Gazarkhame

"I'm sorry," Thang said. The King of Karak Norn went from crimson to maroon in a heartbeat.

"You're what? Sorry? Sorry! You false-bearded, shale-choked barren! You axe-less, run-of-mine sampling! I'll winze your forehead with the spikes of my mug, you robbed-out face!"

Thang ducked as a granite flagon sailed over his head, breaking into chunks against the wall behind him.

"I mean, I am as of yet still-grudged, o great King Regen Gravelbeard, long may your seams give hoist," Thang said, correcting himself hurriedly.

"You spend too much time with the thrice-damned humans!" snarled the king, digging his thick-muscled fingers into the arms of his throne. "Now you're starting to talk like them!"

"It's quite true, sire," Thang said, staying in his impromptu bow. "A miserable state of affairs. But you need an emissary in Axe Bite Pass, and as my fathers all did before me, I serve you in this role."

"You're doing it again. Bringing me... what do they call them? Axe users? Pole orgies?"

"Excuses and apologies, my King," Thang said.

The King's left eye jerked closed for a second in an involuntary spasm. "Gnaaarr," he managed, as it popped open again. "Them. Instead of good news!"

"It cannot be helped. And nor is it my fault, I might add."

"That's better. Stop grovelling and explain. What's happened to Thorgnur?"

FWFB

Balls. I hate it when you can't go to a party for perfectly good reasons, but really wish you could and spend hours mentally picking out what you would have worn. At least this tendency of the modern male has given rise to the sport of Fantasy Football as we know it.

Okay, you can redo the first sentence as 'I hate it when you can't be manager of Chelsea for perfectly good reasons, but really wish you could and spend hours mentally picking out which striker you would have fielded', but I really don't get football. Party frocks were the nearest equivalent I could get my head around.

To this end, I hereby propose Fantasy Warhammer Fantasy Battle.

The rules are simple - you pick out 1000 points from someone else's army list, and you score 1 point for every selection that matches the actual list on the day. You don't have to get the unit sizes right, but they do need to be armed the same, including the inclusion or not of command. Heroes get a point for the correct wizard level and non-magical equipment. Separate 1 point bonuses for magic item selections. If you manage to select something word-for-word accurate, 5 bonus points.

The fact that some of us have more limited selections to pick troops for is part of the fun, I reckon. I'll be selecting a 'what-if' Warriors of Chaos army, and I don't think anyone would struggle to get near the mark, given the entire painted selection is up on my General profile page.

Winner gets an extra can of beer from the fridge.