Battle report: Empire Vs Dwarfs (Warhammer 6th ed.)
To keep up motivation with painting, Niklas (Insta: @theoldworldlives)
and I decided to have another go at remote wargaming.
Our previous attempt ran into a number of difficulties. I had
wanted it stream it live for people to watch, but my internet connection was
not up to it, so we eventually gave up. It also took ages for me to move all
the minis around, as I kept having to pick up the camera so Niklas could have a
clear picture. This time, we decided to play a much smaller game and to post a
battle rep instead of streaming.
It was great fun. So here is the battle rep for your
enjoyment.
Tales of Gold
Ludwig peered through
the pine trees. The past few months had not been a comfortable time in Friedrich
the Fox Lord’s lair. The rag tag mix of renegades, ruffians and outcasts who
served Friedrich were growing hungry and restless. Though many such as the
Knights of the Prowling Fox had great personal loyalty to their leader, they
were others who needed a steady flow of cash to keep them loyal – and all were
growing hungry. It was early spring. The winter had been long and the first harvest
was still some time away.
At last, fate seemed
to have smiled upon them. Word had reached Friedrich’s captain, Ludwig the
Lost, of an abandoned Dwarf tomb a few leagues hence, by the foot of the
mountains. And everyone knows that Dwarf tombs usually mean great treasure.
Ludwig seized his
chance to prove his worth and led a small band in search of the tomb. It was
indeed a ruin – but it was not quite as abandoned as he had hoped.
From his hiding place
in the trees, he could make out a small Dwarf force guarding the ruins. He
could not quite tell how many Dwarfs were there – at least as many as he had
men, to be sure. They might even be more behind the ruins. Either way, he could
not lose face now, having come so far.
“You men!” he shouted
to the pistoliers which served as the Fox Lord’s outriders. “Ride around
through the wood and attacked from the rear. We will rush them from here.”
One of the young men
nodded and they wheeled their horses away trough the pine trees.
The forces
We were playing the Ambush
scenario of the 6th Ed. WHFB rulebook (p.209). The Dwarfs had 1,000
pts – all deployed in the centre around the ruins. The Empire had 500pts and
could deploy on both of the table ends.
The Dwarf force – 999pts
- Tŷr Hammar, Thane - gromril armour, shield, Rune of Stone (+1 to armour)
- Gunnar Haraldsson, Thane - gromril armour, great weapon, Rune of Shielding (2+ ward save against shooting)
- 16 Warriors – shields, heavy aroumour, full command
- 14 Ironbreakers – standard, musician
- 12 Thunderers – musician
- Cannon - Rune of Forging (reroll 1 artillery die per round)
- Organ Gun - Rune of Disuguise (hidden from sight until shoots, moves or enemy within 3")
The Empire force – 500pts
- Ludwig the Lost, Captain – barded warhorse, lance, shield
- 5 Knights of the Prowling Fox – inner circle, standard & musician
- 16 Spearmen – full command, shields & light armour
- 6 Halberdiers (detachment)
- 5 Pistoliers
The first insult
Gunnar Haraldsson was old. Even by dwarf reckoning, he had
walked many years on this earth. Though he was loathe to admit it, he had been
pleased to be released from the ongoing wars against the greenskins. This new
posting guarding the tomb of his forebear was an honour, to be sure. But it was
in such a remote location that it felt akin to peaceful retirement and that
suited him just fine - or so he had thought. But of late, a sadness had come
upon him.
He glanced over at Tŷr
Hammar. The dark-bearded thane was a leader not yet in his prime, yet his
reputation as a great ranger was growing already. Gunnar was ashamed at the realisation
that he envied the younger dwarf. He had
his whole life ahead of him, with many deeds to come and many grudges yet to write
– let alone avenge. What did Gunnar have to look forward to? Loss of sight,
loss of mind… To become a shell. A shadow of his former self.
What was that? Gunnar felt a prickling on the nape of his
neck. His long years of campaigning had taught him to heed such warnings. From
the woods beyond the tomb came a rush of men. At their head was a grizzly
captain leading a pack of black knights with blood red capes. Gunnar saw the
black sash of shame on the leader’s shield and spat in disgust. An
oath-breaker. Well… Gunnar knew just what to do with them. He lifted his axe
and bellowed a war cry.
Ludwig touched his
spurs and his steed raced forwards. The five knights followed him closely. The
nearest group of dwarfs saw them and hastily picked up their weapons, forming a
thin line. They was a volley of sharp crackles. Smoke rose above the line as
bullets whistled past the galloping knights. Ludwig swore. Thunderers. Glancing
around, he saw the dwarfs had shot three knights clean out of their saddles. He
bellowed defiance and brought home the charge. Though the dwarfs made a brave
stand, they were unprepared. The lances of the remaining knights skewered
dwarfs. They broke and made to run away, but were trapped by the ruins of the tomb.
Ludwig and his knights cut them down without mercy. Fewer left to spread the
word of what had happened, Ludwig thought.
Better make this
quick. He was about to dismount and make his way into the tomb when an ancient guttural
war cry was heard from within. He blanched. What accursed spirit risen from the
dead was this? Then he saw a dwarf emerge. His beard was long, white and thick.
His clothes were set with precious jewels. His hands clasped a great axe. His
eyes were filled with malice.
 |
| A champion comes forth to defend the temple and its tomb |
“Hear me Grugni,”
Gunnar roared in his ancestral tongue; “I shall kill every one of these men who
dare defile this sacred place or I shall give my life trying.”
Into the storm
Egged on by Ludwig’s
easy defeat of the thunderers, the spearmen marched on. In front of them was a
group of fierce dwarf warriors clad from head to foot in thick metal -
ironbreakers. The men gritted their teeth and prepared to attack.
Suddenly, to their
right, they saw a great gun. None had seen it before, yet there it was. And
before they could react, it fired. And the sound was as the very anger of the
gods. The organ gun tore into their ranks, killing many a man. The rest panicked
and charged frantically at the ironbreakers. The dwarfs calmly waited, raised
their shields, withstood the feeble attack, and then brought their own weapons
down. There was little the rag tag of men could do. They tried to run, but were
run down by the furious dwarfs.
 |
| The organ gun is revealed |
Here comes the cavalry
On the far side, the Fox
Lord’s riders burst out of the woods and charged towards a group of warriors. They
misjudged the distance, leaving themselves open to a shot from a cannon. The
cannon ball looked as if it would pass overhead, but clipped one poor soul’s
helmet. It was enough to tear off half his head. Eventually, the riders closed the
gap and fired on the warriors. The fighting was fierce, but the riders could
not stand. They turned to make for the safety of the woods, only to be caught
and slain. Who would have guessed dwarfs could move so quickly?
Who will keep the gate with me?
Gunnar Haraldsson
stood in the doorway. These ruffians had another thing coming if they thought
they could get through him. The captain with the eagle shield and sash of shame
shouted an order and the two remaining knights charged at Gunnar. The old dwarf
chuckled, raise his axe, and clove them both in twain with a single stroke.
 |
| A mighty stand-off |
Ludwig was furious.
Furious and terrified. He had hoped to restore some small measure of his honour
by saving the Fox Lord’s people from hunger, yet so far all he had accomplished
was to lose every single knight who had joined him. He dared not think how the
Fox Lord would react to the news. Coming home empty-handed was not an open.
He charged at the
dwarf, dealing him a fierce blow. The dwarf spat out a tooth.
“Is tha’ all ye got,
auld man?” chuckled the ancient dwarf.
Ludwig pricked his
horse’s flank and the beast hastily side-stepped a fierce blow of the axe. A
desperate struggle ensured, in which Ludwig suffered a nasty wound.
Gunnar fought with the
fury of Grugni, but he was not as fast as he used to be. He could feel his
years weighing down upon him. Eventually, he was driven back into the temple.
He stumbled on a piece of rubble.
Ludwig saw the old
dwarf trip and seized the chance. He spurred into the temple and struck down
with his sword.
Gunnar felt his life
fade within him. He fell down onto the tomb of his ancestor. With his last
heartbeat he smiled. No more retirement. No more old age. Only death and
honour.
Last man standing
Outside the temple,
the small detachment of halberdiers and the ironbreakers turned to face each
other. The men thought of running, but realised it would be of little use. The
dwarfs’ blood was up. They offered up prayers to Taal, god of nature, and
bravely went to be at one with him once more. Thus ends everything. Thus
everything is reborn.
A glimmer in the dark
Ludwig look around the
gloom of the temple. The day’s light was failing. He knew he could not go back
the way he had come. A group of angry ironbreakers would be waiting there. He
would have to try his luck through the far doorway.
As he was about to
leave, something caught his eye. A glimmer in the dark. He dismounted and
pulled aside a small pile of rocks. There, in front of him, within his grasp,
was an ornate coronet of gold, encrusted with jewels of the like he had never
seen before. His hastily tucked it into his saddle back and remounted. His a
cry, he urged his horse on. The beast kicked down the far door with its hooves,
the rotten wood splintering to pieces.
Outside, the cannon’s
crew turned around in alarm. Ludwig cut a bloody path through them and fled
into the night. As he reached the edge of the pine woods, he turned to look
back. He could not see a single man alive. Just a hollow full of angry dwarfs.
How would he explain
this to his lord Friedrich?
 |
| Ludwig the Lost rides off alone once more into the night |
A grudge to settle
Tŷr Hammar
crouched beside Gunnar’s body, which lay over the rumble of his ancestor’s
tomb. The old dwarf’s eyes were open. Though empty of life, they were full of
determination. Tŷr closed them
gently.
“Send word to the scribes. We have a new grudge to set down.
We will find the man who carries the eagle of Hochland under a sash of shame
and fights for whoever’s symbol this is.” He kicked aside a red shield which
bore a yellow fox.
“Whatever the cost. We will avenge this wrong.”
For how can dwarfs die better than fighting fearful odds for
the ashes of our fathers and the temple of our gods?
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