Second? I came second? Surely some mistake somewhere. Probably mine. To be fair, it's really joint second with the Slavish Skaven of Leofa, I'm not convinced points difference really cuts the mustard. But equally, I was robbed of a better result against the Empire, so I guess I'll take my winnings where I may.
I'm delighted with how the Orcs did, though - I really can't fault them. Fun to play, solid performances almost across the board, and some very entertaining moments. Like the Enterprise of Campogrotto, I think they deserve proper performance notes.
Gnashbad da Bad
Was it worth taking a full lord for such a small army? I should say so. Gnashbad went down a couple of times, first in an optimistic one-on-one against the Ogre Butcher with Beast of Horros in play, then later in my awful performance against the puny humans. But then, it was because his poxy unit fled so slowly.
Otherwise, he never disappointed, whether it was butchering every character the undead could send against him or brutalising his own fractious troops. 160 points for a killing machine whose leadership not only helped hold the line, but also cancelled out a lot of animosity. And he didn't even need magic items to dominate most of his combats. That extra point of Ld is not overkill in an orky army, not in my book.
Rating - Orksome, dude.
Friday, 7 September 2012
Balance Sheet: The Enterprise of Campogrotta
Now that the dust has settled on WoofBoot VI, I thought I would reflect on how each of my units (and their commander) performed. If any of my opponents would like to share their insights on what they face, I welcome your thoughts…
184 points
My premier unit, and didn't they just behave like it. With the buffs courtesy of my Warrior Priest, I'd have confidently set this unit against any other in the field.
Their defeat of the Big Uns (and their Black Orc general) was decisive, as was their contribution against the Lizardmen. They did enough damage to make the Ironguts waver, and the Thundertusk takedown was their finest hour.
On the debit side, they failed to do enough damage to break the Skaven horde (but they was my fault for expecting them to), although their Stubborn ability (rarely used, as they usually ploughed through enemies in the first round) and armour save kept them in play until the end.
I would have expected them to do better against the Skeleton regiment, frenzied or not, and the Undead battle was probably the only one where they underperformed. The Warrior Priest, though his battle prayers were invaluable, showed his vulnerability to combat when he ducked the vampire general's challenge.
Their lack of numbers sometimes counted against them - they struggled if they needed to make a second attack against a hard unit (like Ogres) or grind away at a numerous one (Skaven and Undead). But as they were already one-third of my army points, a 15-strong unit was my limit.
They were lucky to break the Orc Big Uns as they did, and luckier still that their Stubbornness did not keep them fighting the Orges (the lone champion fleeing for the table edge saved me the points). Their Lizardmen scalps were fair enough though, and their Thundertusk slaying was surprisingly par, rather than an against-the-odds achievement.
In terms of ‘hammer’ units, my Empire army would either need these or knights. I’d still favour these.
The Schiltrons of Tarano
14 x Greatswords184 points
Battle Honours
Forest Goblin Spider Riders, Orc Big 'Uns, 2 x Skink-Kroxigor units (one solely, one shared), Saurus Cavalry (partially damaged), Thundertusk (partially damaged).
My premier unit, and didn't they just behave like it. With the buffs courtesy of my Warrior Priest, I'd have confidently set this unit against any other in the field.Their defeat of the Big Uns (and their Black Orc general) was decisive, as was their contribution against the Lizardmen. They did enough damage to make the Ironguts waver, and the Thundertusk takedown was their finest hour.
On the debit side, they failed to do enough damage to break the Skaven horde (but they was my fault for expecting them to), although their Stubborn ability (rarely used, as they usually ploughed through enemies in the first round) and armour save kept them in play until the end.
I would have expected them to do better against the Skeleton regiment, frenzied or not, and the Undead battle was probably the only one where they underperformed. The Warrior Priest, though his battle prayers were invaluable, showed his vulnerability to combat when he ducked the vampire general's challenge.
Their lack of numbers sometimes counted against them - they struggled if they needed to make a second attack against a hard unit (like Ogres) or grind away at a numerous one (Skaven and Undead). But as they were already one-third of my army points, a 15-strong unit was my limit.
They were lucky to break the Orc Big Uns as they did, and luckier still that their Stubbornness did not keep them fighting the Orges (the lone champion fleeing for the table edge saved me the points). Their Lizardmen scalps were fair enough though, and their Thundertusk slaying was surprisingly par, rather than an against-the-odds achievement.
Final Grade
They’re Grrrreat!In terms of ‘hammer’ units, my Empire army would either need these or knights. I’d still favour these.
Thursday, 6 September 2012
Wednesday, 5 September 2012
Woffboot VI - Dogs of Empire v Ogre Kingdoms
"They're gonna kill us," said Sergeant Ricardo. "They're gonna cook us. And they're gonna frackin' eat us!"
Commissar Pendleton ignored his Schiltron officer and looked around at the battered remnants of the Enterprise of Campogrotta. It had been a hard campaign: thrashing the greenskins and those lizardmen had brought them within touching distance of their goal. But facing the ratmen swarm had cost precious time, and they had barely escaped with their lives against the vampire's nightmare host. It was time to cut their losses and go home.
Commissar Pendleton ignored his Schiltron officer and looked around at the battered remnants of the Enterprise of Campogrotta. It had been a hard campaign: thrashing the greenskins and those lizardmen had brought them within touching distance of their goal. But facing the ratmen swarm had cost precious time, and they had barely escaped with their lives against the vampire's nightmare host. It was time to cut their losses and go home.
Monday, 3 September 2012
Woffboot VI - Orcs and Goblins vs Vampire Counts
"Dat's not even a real army," Grobbli said, shaking his head. His green hide had turned a paler shade than usual as he looked across the wooded valley to the shambling hoard approaching them. The majority seemed to be wearing similar uniforms to the human mercenaries who'd driven the orcs off the day before, which was hardly a promising omen.
"Dey've already beaten us when dey woz alive, boss!" whined Crotch, the Redclaw chief. "And ya can't bash wot's already been deddened!"
"Cobblas," Gnashbad said, smacking the offenders with the blunt end of his axe. He underlined his point with the sharp end. "All it means is dem humies is too stoopid to know they'z bin beat already. Come on, boyz!"
Nobody disagreed. The Redclaw spearpack skittered just ahead of the Big 'Uns, chanting their battle song as they went.
"We're Red!
We're Claw!
We'll stick ya 'til ya raw!"
"Dey've already beaten us when dey woz alive, boss!" whined Crotch, the Redclaw chief. "And ya can't bash wot's already been deddened!"
"Cobblas," Gnashbad said, smacking the offenders with the blunt end of his axe. He underlined his point with the sharp end. "All it means is dem humies is too stoopid to know they'z bin beat already. Come on, boyz!"
Nobody disagreed. The Redclaw spearpack skittered just ahead of the Big 'Uns, chanting their battle song as they went.
"We're Red!
We're Claw!
We'll stick ya 'til ya raw!"
Saturday, 1 September 2012
WoffBoot VI - Dogs of Empire vs Vampire Counts
It was close to midnight, and something evil was lurking in the dark. Under the moonlight, the Enterprise of Capogrotta took up positions to defend themselves against the restless dead.
Commissar Pendleton was not a happy paymaster. The mercenaries were being forced to deal with yet another army vying over this bloody piece of the Border Princes. Scouts had reported that their prize, The Black Banner of Blancvik, had been taken by the vampire counts. Even worse, fighting at night meant that he would have to pay overtime.
In frustration, he aimed a kick at the prisoner Sylvio Delestro. The deserter had been recaptured yesterday, handed over by a wandering band of simpletons. Delestro had been planning to take the banner for himself, but due to his greed, the mercenaries had lost it anyway. He promised a particularly unpleasant punishment for the turncoat.
The Riders of Udolpho fearlessly galloped forward once again, peppering the legendary Black Coach. The Spitfyre volley gun followed suit and opened up with every barrel, sending two dozen shots at the nightmare carriage. Even in the poor light, Pendleton could see that the target was unaffected: the idiot gunners had forgotten to load the weapon.
"Can't get the parts, guv'nor," the master gunner shrugged.
Commissar Pendleton was not a happy paymaster. The mercenaries were being forced to deal with yet another army vying over this bloody piece of the Border Princes. Scouts had reported that their prize, The Black Banner of Blancvik, had been taken by the vampire counts. Even worse, fighting at night meant that he would have to pay overtime.
In frustration, he aimed a kick at the prisoner Sylvio Delestro. The deserter had been recaptured yesterday, handed over by a wandering band of simpletons. Delestro had been planning to take the banner for himself, but due to his greed, the mercenaries had lost it anyway. He promised a particularly unpleasant punishment for the turncoat.
The Riders of Udolpho fearlessly galloped forward once again, peppering the legendary Black Coach. The Spitfyre volley gun followed suit and opened up with every barrel, sending two dozen shots at the nightmare carriage. Even in the poor light, Pendleton could see that the target was unaffected: the idiot gunners had forgotten to load the weapon.
"Can't get the parts, guv'nor," the master gunner shrugged.
WoffBoot VI - Ogre Kingdoms vs Lizardmen
M'grash, at camp, picked the last of a morsel of food from his teeth with a rat femur. They were a little stringy, and not much meat on each one, but thankfully the general of the Skaven had thought to bring so many that the ogres had fed well.
A worried K'mang entered the butcher's tent and explained that the supplies were running low. The ogres had feasted well, and were getting restless. There must be more of the meat out on the field of battle, so M'grash picked up his crown and spiked glove and stormed out of the tent.
"Right boys, we is 'eading back to the field o' battle; thoz runty rats tasted alright, but there werent much on 'em..."
K'mang picked up her beard and strapped it to her face, preparing herself for battle. She prepared a potion just in case she bumped into any more of those pesky vampires; and readied herself.
M'grash led his boys back to the earlier battlefield but there other interlopers who had perhaps found the same find.
Hideous blue skinned reptilian creatures skittered and picked at the corpses.
"OI! Thems my pickings lizard boy"
That was enough of a battle cry that was needed for the hungry ogres, and the bulls moved forward. The mammoth followed up ponderously, tusks swinging as its heavy feet shook the ground underfoot. The belchers, still conscious to prove themselves after their defeat with the spiders earlier were careful to lag back, loading their cannons.
As soon as the lizards considered moving the belchers lit their fuses and aimed roughly in the general direction of the bigger lizards and closed their eyes and hoped... KABOOM!
When they opened them again, two of the cavalry were falling down the hill cripped with axeblades and other weaponry embedded in them.
K'mang, passed one of M'grash one of her brews, who necked down the tasty brew and the hardy gruel tasted good.
The cavalry charged down the hill towards M'grash; and crashed into the ogre.
A worried K'mang entered the butcher's tent and explained that the supplies were running low. The ogres had feasted well, and were getting restless. There must be more of the meat out on the field of battle, so M'grash picked up his crown and spiked glove and stormed out of the tent.
"Right boys, we is 'eading back to the field o' battle; thoz runty rats tasted alright, but there werent much on 'em..."
K'mang picked up her beard and strapped it to her face, preparing herself for battle. She prepared a potion just in case she bumped into any more of those pesky vampires; and readied herself.
M'grash led his boys back to the earlier battlefield but there other interlopers who had perhaps found the same find.
Hideous blue skinned reptilian creatures skittered and picked at the corpses.
"OI! Thems my pickings lizard boy"
That was enough of a battle cry that was needed for the hungry ogres, and the bulls moved forward. The mammoth followed up ponderously, tusks swinging as its heavy feet shook the ground underfoot. The belchers, still conscious to prove themselves after their defeat with the spiders earlier were careful to lag back, loading their cannons.
As soon as the lizards considered moving the belchers lit their fuses and aimed roughly in the general direction of the bigger lizards and closed their eyes and hoped... KABOOM!
When they opened them again, two of the cavalry were falling down the hill cripped with axeblades and other weaponry embedded in them.
K'mang, passed one of M'grash one of her brews, who necked down the tasty brew and the hardy gruel tasted good.
The cavalry charged down the hill towards M'grash; and crashed into the ogre.
WoffBoot VI - Dogs of Empire vs Skaven
"I HATE the ratmen!" Captain Fagiolo spat on the ragged ground. "Come! Let us speak of them no more!"
The battle standard bearer had been in a bad mood ever since they had picked him out of the heap of ratmen corpses. Commissar Pendleton couldn't disagree. There were some in the Empire who doubted the existence of the cursed ratmen, but they were familiar foes to mercenaries of Tilea. Men who had fought in the Blighted Marshes, men who remembered the fate of Miragliano.
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And three hundred miles from home, here they were again. A vast chittering horde of innumerable ratmen, teaming towards his exhausted forces. The Riders of Udolpho had done their best to distract the swarm, riding back and forth until they were finally taken down by the long-range shots of the ratmen's evil war machines.
"I HATE that volley gun!" Fagiolo ran his fingers through his bloodied hair. "Come! Let us speak of it no more!"
Pendleton scowled at their experimental war machine, leased from the mad inventor Congreave Mitman at an exorbitant price. For the third battle in a row, the volley gun and underachieved expectations. The master gunner was now staring at it, hands on hips, shaking his head and drawing breath between his teeth in the traditional attitude of a tradesman about to charge a large amount of money to repair a faulty machine.
The battle standard bearer had been in a bad mood ever since they had picked him out of the heap of ratmen corpses. Commissar Pendleton couldn't disagree. There were some in the Empire who doubted the existence of the cursed ratmen, but they were familiar foes to mercenaries of Tilea. Men who had fought in the Blighted Marshes, men who remembered the fate of Miragliano.
And three hundred miles from home, here they were again. A vast chittering horde of innumerable ratmen, teaming towards his exhausted forces. The Riders of Udolpho had done their best to distract the swarm, riding back and forth until they were finally taken down by the long-range shots of the ratmen's evil war machines.
"I HATE that volley gun!" Fagiolo ran his fingers through his bloodied hair. "Come! Let us speak of it no more!"
Pendleton scowled at their experimental war machine, leased from the mad inventor Congreave Mitman at an exorbitant price. For the third battle in a row, the volley gun and underachieved expectations. The master gunner was now staring at it, hands on hips, shaking his head and drawing breath between his teeth in the traditional attitude of a tradesman about to charge a large amount of money to repair a faulty machine.
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