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Post by wilsonthenarc on May 27, 2020 16:47:16 GMT
The battlefield, Turn 1
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Post by wilsonthenarc on May 27, 2020 16:47:52 GMT
The Swords of Archaon Great POINT OF VIEW shot...
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Post by wilsonthenarc on May 27, 2020 16:48:40 GMT
Game in progress, warts & all
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Post by wilsonthenarc on May 27, 2020 16:49:12 GMT
My Army
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Post by strutsagget on May 28, 2020 6:15:41 GMT
Very nice battlefield
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Jun 2, 2020 21:54:56 GMT
Weekend project, see below. 1 box of Kavalos Deathriders.It is AoS stuff, but I'll put them on square bases. Forgive me? I figure I'll use them as Necropolis Knights. Stole the idea from TheREALricksalamone Put them on 50mmx75mm bases. We'll see!
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Post by knoffles on Jun 7, 2020 5:39:25 GMT
Nothing wrong with using AOS stuff on square bases. You are just saving the models from a life of untold misery!
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Jun 7, 2020 14:01:39 GMT
Nothing wrong with using AOS stuff on square bases. You are just saving the models from a life of untold misery! FYI. I had/have built up a pile of round and oval bases. I hit them with my flamethrower yesterday. 6/6/2020. **Flamethrower = small handyman's Bernz-O-Matic Not quite "Dark Elf Guy" from End Times, but, still reckless and funny.
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Post by warlordghazak on Jun 8, 2020 10:31:35 GMT
I also have a lot of AOS stuff that will be converted to square bases. The only round bases in my army are for my fanatic's or markers. The models look good, are they from the new undead range?
Looks like a nice battlefield.
Cheers, WGG
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Jun 9, 2020 13:08:09 GMT
The models look good, are they from the new undead range? Yes. These guys are the "Kavalos Deathriders". They're from the "Ossiarch Bonereapers" range. Essentially, they're heavily armored skeletons. I still don't have the kit 100% put together, because I am very much picking and choosing my bits carefully. I don't love every bit of the miniatures, but I love the overall vibe. Examples: 1.--Love the steeds. They are suitably sized for a 50x75 base. The rotting cloth is a particular detail I dig on. 2. --Love the steed heads, BUT, don't like the mix in a unit of 5... 1 rhino? 1 bird? 1 cat? 1 oxen?2b. --I am casting copies such that I'll have a unit of x3 Rhino Knights and x3 of other head types, matchy matchy 3.--Love the Riders. Weapons arms are great. Doing a unit of x3 Spears and x3 Swords. 4. --Love the Standard with Ravens, just NOT for this particular unit. Saving it away for use in a unit of infantry, future/later. 5. --I don't love the added helmet accoutrements. They look too silly IMHO. 6. --Shields? I am on the fence... 50/50... As of today, I don't love the shields. Debating digging through my bits box to see other options. Trying to balance the new stuff and new vibes with my own 25 year interpretation of the Warhammer Fantasy gestalt.
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Post by grandmasterwang on Jun 18, 2020 16:37:53 GMT
Looking forwards to see how they fit on the rectangle bases.
How did the battle go btw?
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Nov 6, 2020 14:32:54 GMT
King Lakhashar sat on his throne. His new throne in this wasteland. He had brought his troops, his lieutenants, his slaves, and much more with him from Lybaras years ago. Still, his armies campaigned. Lakhashar mused to himself that he had never sent a convoy to bring his true primary throne here. Concepts such as the comfort one feels sitting in a chair are almost lost upon the dead… and the undead. Almost. At this moment, Lakhashar missed his old throne.
He sat with Lahzlerrin playing another game of backgammon. They methodically rolled the dice, echoing a slice of what had been their mortal lives hundreds of years ago. “My daughter…” began Lakhashar. “What news from the edges of our might empires?”
“Father. I am ever your honest and humble servant. I bring you Dark Tidings. All does not go according to your great plans and mighty designs. I must be the bearer of bad news today.”
Lahzlerrin rolled her dice and moved her pieces. “Father, the Southeastern provinces. There is trouble. The men folk, they bring aggression. Unchecked aggression.” She handed his father, the kind of hundreds of thousands, a scroll.
King Lakhashar continued to sit on his throne, reading the scroll intently; silently and methodically. He stopped, and he read it again.
These thrice-be-damned living and breathing humans. What was to be done about them? These despicable men had invaded the recently conquered and annexed Demon Factory. Despite the well-ordered and meticulously planned defenses, the garrison fell. And quickly. Lakhashar attributes the loss to weak leadership. His subordinate in that region was destroyed, with no trace or remembrance to be found. If field reports were to be believed, the winds of magic had simply overpowered him (this pathetic low level Liche Priest) and the undying legions had profoundly crumbled all around him. The humans had taken our Demon Factory. This angered Lakhashar greatly, though his face betrayed not one iota of emotion. His visage was neither smile nor frown. It was years of grim determination outside and within.
He grew grimmer, within, upon the next news.
“Father, more tidings, and none good…” explained Lahzlerrin “Our assault upon the Demon Gate appears to have met with failure”. Lakhashar wanted to bellow “What??!! How??!!” but a thousand years of rest had taught him patience. Lakhashar knew that he had dispatched a force strong enough to take three such forts with three such garrisons. And yet, the fortress was contested. When the dust had cleared, the fortress remained in the hands of The Men of The Empire. Curses.
“Lahzlerrin, my child. This is indeed disturbing news. Send six messengers, and send six spies. Gather all of the intelligence you can on this mortal fool. This, Maximilian Arno, and his wretched underlings. Not today, and not tomorrow, but soon I wish to grind his skull to dust with my boot. I shall then scatter that dust to the four winds and mark remembrance and mark my vengeance for these two defeats. This fool Arno has no idea the Beast he has awoken. We shall meet him and his mouth breathing skin bags on the open field and shall serve them a rout such as they have never seen or felt. Scribe! Let it be written.”
And it was written as such.
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Nov 6, 2020 14:54:08 GMT
Prince Lahkashaz VII of Lybras, the second born son, he who sat in line to be King after his father Lakhashar, was greatly vexed. His mission had one purpose. To reclaim the artifacts of his dynasty. A trove of mighty weapons and beautiful trinkets alike that had been plundered by these flies… these gnats… these disgusting boils on the surface of this world that needed popping. Many treasures had been pilfered by the Ogres. Great stupid dumb beasts that resembled the mighty Thaqil of our homeland. Imagine if you will that a Thaqil had been fed pig slop for a year straight, had never washed, had never had its hair cut or its nails trimmed, and had been pissed on by every noble and slave in our city – every day. And then further imagine that it was dressed in rags that had been buried under a Yak pasture for a fortnight. That begins to approach the level of decadence and filth exhibited by these Ogre thieves.
But, somehow, ever worse than the Ogres were these Dwarfs. Fat, greasy, short and stubborn. Not as filthy as the Ogres but certainly more manipulated by Gold. All one needed to do was to flash a shiny bauble, and one could watch their beady eyes turn from a normal shine do a glazed over look of a base creature with all of its impulses controlled externally. Greedy maggots they were, each and every one of them.
"And yet, those Greedy maggots had handed me a loss on the field of battle", speculated Lahkashaz to himself. He had dispatched his report. No sooner had the messengers left, then Lahkashaz found his army pinned down yet again by these determined stunty legged beard sweepers. Lahkashaz took a moment to allow himself to think about something other than battlefield strategy. He would take the captured dwarfs, have their beards shaved, take those hairs and have then wound into a rope. He would then take the rope and make a noose and hang each dwarf from it until he was dead.
But here he was, pinned down by a foe he knew he could not beat. Despite his distaste and disgust at the Dawi arrayed across the battlefield, Lahkashaz knew them to be a stout and sturdy foe. Immovable objects. What then, were his easy options?
Option one was to put trust into his Necropolis Knights. Mighty calvary, feared across the land. But, in the encounter not but days ago – Lahkashaz had sent them charging into the ranks of the Bearded shields and none of his Knights had broken through. They survived to live and fight another day, but their glorious charge had done made the impact our great Prince had hoped for. Curses.
Option two was a diplomatic approach. To perhaps offer the captive dwarf he had. Bide my time? Avoid this fight in front of me? He had heard that Dwarfs value honor and loyalty to the clan. Perhaps we begin the battle with a spectacle?
"I shall drag the dwarf out in front of my lines, chained and bound. I shall announce that unless these dwarfs remove themselves from the field of battle – I shall kill this one in front of them and they must watch him bleed to death before they can arrive."
Option three. That option must be discussed with my sister. She can then discuss it with our father. No one needs to know about option three...... Yet..........
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Nov 6, 2020 14:56:40 GMT
Vizier Ka-Lakmil was anxious. Being Lakhashar’s most trusted advisor, he knew his position would soon be diminished greatly. His assault had failed. The siege did not take the Demon Gate as had been decreed. Not requested, mind you. Lakhashar did not make requests, only demands.
Despite ranks of troops, and many ladders, and even with the aid of the Allies of Nurgle, still men stood on the towers. Ka-Lakmil was worried. He did not usually fail. Those that failed in the service of Great King Lakhashar did not receive many rewards, nor did they receive a second or a third chance.
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Post by wilsonthenarc on Nov 6, 2020 15:12:00 GMT
High Princess Lahzlerrin was both angry and motivated. Plans were underway for the upcoming assault. “These greasy overweight Ogres were not more than ill-mannered burglars. They had stolen the pride of our dynasty. Our treasures have been our ours for Millenia. The bandits must be punished; and severely”
With reports of failure coming in from across the empire, Lahzlerrin focused her scheming. Here they were, at the very gates of the Ogre Empire. The recently completed game of backgammon had given her a lesson. A lesson, and an idea. She had been playing Green Emerald pieces against her father’s Red Ruby pieces. Green.
We shall take the fight to the Ogres, just as they take the fight to us. For the Ogres had simultaneously launched an invasion of the Capital. Lybaras was besieged. “No matter” said the princess to her Paramount Lady in Waiting. “No matter at all; our forces shall hold the wall against these brutes for days and nights untold. Our soldiery shall not waver in the least”.
Lahzlerrin was mentally willing her Thaqil (her, as they were translated “Ushabti”) to literally tear down every brick from the Ogre castle and use it to build an Obelisk giving great honor to Lybaras. They had equipment, they had weapons. The armies of Nehekhara were ready to invade. With one offensive action happening and one defensive action happening, much was in play. Many moving pieces. Emeralds. Perhaps a new Green Wave would rise. Yes, green. Emeralds were always her favorite color. “Bring me the scrolls from this morning; and bring me parchment; I shall write a dispatch that must leave the palace this very hour --- urgency is of the utmost”
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