Dark Elves of Cybria Turn 1

Year 123 AR (After the Rage), Furstmonat

(Dark Elves of Cybria, Year 1, Month 1, Turn 1)

In the frozen wastes of the Shattered World an epic battle raged outside the gates of the Hruscan capital of Skarlsbad. A Cybrian army known simply as Blood Sacrifice marched on the northern barbarians, who, thinking themselves to have the greater numbers, met the Dark Elf host on a ruin-studded plain before the city walls. The northerners reckoned without the ferocity of the Elven commander Daidolos the Deadly however, who defeated no less than three heroes, including King Starkadder the Unpleasant himself, ruler of all Hrusca! It was not all completely one-sided though, for the Hruscan hero Beorn the Bear almost single-handedly destroyed the Mahksim Guard halberdiers, while a rogue war mammoth called Garn rampaged across the battlefield following the loss of its crew, trampling many Dark Elves underfoot.

In the end, when the dust settled (and despite small pockets of Hruscan warriors claiming distant corners of the battlefield), the road ahead was open for the remnants of the Dark Elf army to march forwards and capture the city of Skarlsbad. By this deed the Cybrians have set down a marker that will be a tough act to follow for all who style themselves as emperors of the Shattered World. Many Hruscan heroes were captured, including the legendary Grimwulf the Seer, and some units, such the household Hruscarls of the King slaughtered to a man. Interestingly, rumour has it that King Starkadder himself only barely survived his grievous wounds, and was last seen being taken aboard the flagship of his private armada, which was conveniently moored just offshore...

Elsewhere, the Dark Elves quietly added the hamlet of Thangor to their empire, and their neighbours must now surely be doubling the border patrols in a bid to stem the Elven invasion of the north!

The Roster of Battles

The Roster of Mighty Heroes and Battalions

Current State of Play

Steam Tank Commander Patton retires...

Steam Tank Commander Patton
At the Battle of Forlun's Ford
(Tankard of ale not pictured)

Edict from the Great Elector Count and ruler of Voltanheim:

After a lengthy trial, Commander Patton of the 4th Imperial Legion, has been found to be negligent in his duties. He was by his own admission drunk and disorderly during the battle. His own words were "I vas shickered to zee eyeballs my Lord, hee hee hee". This fact contributed to the appalling result of the battle and cannot be excused. He has been derelict in his performance on the field of battle and therefore has been retired permanently. His previous record and exemplarily performance as an Officer and Commander of the Empire is unsurpassed. For this, his retirement will not be held in public.

Great Sherriff of Voltanheim and the Realm
Baron Wyattus Earpees

foote note:
It is rumoured that as one of the Count's favourite Commanders, Patton, wasn't retired permanently but in fact had been given the Tavern called the Vile Inn in Verdorn. That he has no need of coin and is looked after by his maid servant who is charged by the Count to never let him be without a full tankard of ale. It is said he is banished for the rest of his years to drink his profits and watch out at the neighbouring countryside and remember the day that he failed.

A response from the Wood Elves...

From the Wood Elves of Glorenrond Forest:

"Perhaps the 'Empire' of Voltanheim should reconsider it's ambitions south of the Marmeir River as next time they make the mistake of attempting to cross it, they are likely to meet more than just a few villagers... In the taverns in Glorenrond last night, where the heroes of Forlun’s Ford were the toast of the realm, there was speculation that the Voltanheimers would do well to stick to their strengths - farming! Glory, glory to the Wood Elves."

Empire of Voltanheim Turn 1

Year 123 AR (After the Rage), Furstmonat

(Empire of Voltanheim, Year 1, Month 1, Turn 1)

The armies of the Empire of Voltanheim finally creaked into action and achieved mixed results. In the north, the city-state of Aardenburg, capital of the coastal Aardenburg confederation, rapidly acquiesced to the might of the Empire and formally became part of Voltanheim. Whether the outlying districts of the Confederation follow suit, as they are long famed for their fractious and independent natures, remains to be seen. Regardless, cynics have suggested that Grand Mayor Nuvries Gildensmirk only allowed the merger to rid his city of the pirates of the renegade Hruscan barbarian Zod the Hammer. If so, mission accomplished, for the pirates rapidly fled the city and Zod’s armada now lies some distance off-shore. In addition, Aardenburg is a valuable acquisition for Voltanheim and there is no way the Emperor will allow it to secede in the near or distant future.

Further south, despite the peaceful capture of a minor Elodian hamlet called Mundmeir, the real problems happened on the banks of the Marmeir River. Here, the Wood Elf village of Forlun’s Ford resisted joining the realm of Voltanheim, and so the Fourth Imperial Legion swung into action, storming across the river to claim the settlement for its own. Or so it should have happened. In reality, despite sowing panic in the Elven forces, only one unit of Knights made it across the river in the face of withering arrow-fire. Unsupported by their comrades, and surrounded by a wood full of vengeful Elves, they returned to the lands of Empire in defeat. Forlun’s Ford remains staunchly independent, but for how long is anyone’s guess...

The Roster of Battles

The Roster of Mighty Heroes and Battalions

Current State of Play

Wordled...

Just thought I'd add this Shattered World wordle by Allan:

Game On!

The Shattered World

Year 123 AR (After the Rage), Furstmonat

(Year 1, Month 1, Turn 1)

Prologue

Scene: Cluttered Orc cave within the plateau city of Thraskis Doom, deep in the Crimson Wastes

Orcling: Cripes Grandad! You’re so old I bet you saw the great dragon Thorinthangol!

Old Orc: Pipe down, sprogling! Someone approaches...

[Messenger Orc enters cave]

Messenger Orc: Greetings, Old One! Shazdrakk Khan has given the order! Our armies move out at dawn...

Old Orc: Finally! What news from elsewhere?

Messenger Orc: High Elves are massing along their borders. Same for the Dwarfs.

Old Orc: Even with our hordes, two versus one are not odds I like.

Messenger Orc: It may not be that bad. The Dwarfs are surrounded. Dark Elves are getting ready to pour out of Cybria, and the Bellonian Knights are also on the march.

Old Orc: Hmm. What about the others?

Messenger Orc: The legions of Voltanheim have mobilized at the far end of Dragontooth Pass, and even the Glorenrond Forest is fairly bristling with Wood Elf archers.

Old Orc: Excellent! Then the great game can finally begin! What of the neutrals?

Messenger Orc: Slevia still slumbers and should be easy pickings. Of the Hruscan barbarians, there is no word.

Old Orc: Interesting. What does Grunjir Khan the God King say?

Messenger Orc: That we will triumph through strength, might and power, and vanquish all of our long-time oppressors!

Old Orc: Bollocks to that! Listen! The way will be long, hard, and troublesome. There will be setbacks and disasters aplenty. The only true winners will be the eaters of gore and the scavengers of carrion. We enter a dark age, my friend...

Messenger Orc: You doubt the wisdom of the God King?

Old Orc: Never! I am just being realistic. Give my regards to Shazdrakk Khan and remind him that we have an excellent chance. As do all the others...

Messenger Orc: Noted.

[Messenger Orc departs cave]

[Old Orc begins donning armour and weapons]

Old Orc: Blast and drat, Griselda! Where have you put my cursed war-cleaver?!

Griselda (from next cave): Have you tried the trunk behind the entry boulder?

Old Orc: Yes, there it is. Thank you!

Orcling: Grandad, are you going to war too?

Old Orc: Well, sprogling, someone has to show these young ‘uns how to fight properly. After all, you only live once!

Turn Order

The turn order for this month is:

1. The Empire of Voltanheim (Michael)

2. The Dark Elves of Cybria (Brenda)

3. The Wood Elves of Glorenrond (Allan)

4. The Orcs of the Crimson Wastes (Martyn)

5. The Knights of Bellonia (Aidan)

6. The High Elves of Western Elodia (Paul)

7. The Dwarves of Khaz Ung Grim (Kos)

Starting Position and Luggage

Hey guys, I'm on.

Well, when Paul asked me to bring over my models to his place so that the battles can be recreated in much realism as possible. Better than pieces of card cutouts with the unit names and details on them. I said yeh. But pulling them out of storage I realised that transporting them might pose a problem. So I've bought one of those GW Citadel hard cases and packed my infantry troops into that. But having over 120 knights wouldn't fit. So I looked around and found out from asking that a place in the States sells prefabricated foam cutouts to any GW army. There is an outlet here in Adelaide just around the corner from me. Hobby Matrix in Fairview Park. I'm checking it out this Saturday. Foam trays range from $10 to $25 and seem like a good investment for my models' protection. I've placed an order and it will take a couple of weeks. Check out the Battle Foam site at - us.battlefoam.com

I'm even going to start painting again.

Cheers

And let the battles begin!

005 Modelling Showcase - Painting

Mounted Undead (Painter: Kos Lesses)

004 Modelling Showcase - Painting

Deathmaster Snikch (Painter: Kos Lesses)

003 Modelling Showcase - Painting

High Elf Spearmen (Painter: Paul Cormack)

The Orcs of the Crimson Wastes

Shazdrakk Khan snarled at the war council as he dashed his clawed hand across the map scratched into the dirt of the yurt’s floor. Grunjir Khan, the ultimate ruler of the Crimson Wastes watched him impassively. “Yaaah!", Shazdrakk continued. "This talk of dwarves and elves and men and their strength, is just gas passing from the back end of a boar! The Orcs are the great strength in this land! We have the strength, the cunning and the tools of war! When I hear the whining of the weak ones in our ranks, I hear only the crunch of their bones, the sound of their flesh passing my lips as they feed my belly and my strength. Their flesh shall feed us as we go to war. And as we march there shall be blood and flames and the screams of our enemies. And we shall have their lands for our own!"

Much later, an illustrious sage of an as yet unknown empire would write “......and the orcish hordes poured from the Crimson Wastes to lay waste to the kingdoms around them. All trembled with fear as the larger and smaller goblinoid kin marched to war, with beaten iron weapons, armour, and brands of fire held high. Their number innumerable, the orcs swallowed settlement after settlement with violence in their hearts. A time of devastation had come to all……."

002 Modelling Showcase - Painting

Dark Elf Sorceress (Painter: Kos Lesses)

001 Modelling Showcase - Painting

High Elf Repeater Bolt Thrower (Painter: Paul Cormack)

From the Vault - Part One

“Men are your castles, men are your walls....”

Emberfire gazed into the pool of water. Images and visions sharpened and faded, morphed and coalesced. Clarity was ever elusive. A wolf, no... a werewolf, sentient, malevolent. A city, in a far off land, in another world. A city in turmoil, a city of strife. A war cry of a soldier with loyalty in his heart. “Look out sir!” he cries! Now... a song, singing. No, weeping, getting louder, A shriek! Long and piercing.. A banshee's wail!

Emberfire stood back from the liquid mirror. “A task for my mind.” she thought “Clues to a mystery.... A lesson to learn?”

* * * * *

Jaime and the Everqueen were sitting at the high hall enjoying a goblet of wine.

Emberfire was describing what she had seen. “In the vision I saw a city in a far off land. Many factions vied for supremacy. The streets were laid out like so.” Emberfire traced out a pattern on the table.

“My Mother's city. Iapetus” said Jaime. “For as you know my queen I am not born of Ulthuan. My memory is clouded. I do not know how I came to be in this world and few things survive from that world. Some parchments and ancient scrolls belonging to my mother. Little else”

“Show me.” said the queen as she drained the last of her wine and set the goblet down with a decisive clink.

* * * * *

Emberfire sat at her table in her private study. The scrap of parchment in her hands was yellowed with age but still quite intact. She unrolled it carefully and began to read...

TO ALL THE NEW RECRUITS OUT THERE! RESPECT YOUR SUPERIORS!! This is for all the young’ns out there who have ceased holding on to their mothers skirt and gone off the bottle, who have decided to head for their favourite clan and are waiting in line to sign up, regardless of race, Dwarf, Orc, Human or other, heed my words!!

Now the biggest mistake you young’ns can make is not respecting your Superiors, for those who are really daft that’s your leader! I’m not talking about licking your leaders shorts at every opportunity, for that will surely gain you a hiding real quick! I’m talking about doing the right thing in the field of war. For those that survive their first few battles you will soon realize that you are either a notch above the rest or more likely your leader is competent in keeping his troops alive. Before the end of your second battle, one thing will become clear:

YOU ARE EITHER DEAD OR ALIVE BECAUSE OF YOUR LEADER!

Now I can hear all you newbies going on about how mean and tough you are, but what are you going to do when you are ambushed by a horde of stinking screaming Orcs? (No disrespect to the Orcs but they do stink). Either you are going to wish that you didn’t stop sucking your mummies winker or you are going to look at your leader for help. Usually by this stage he would be slicing open a few bellies and right behind him will be your comrades rallying to his side. Once again you may survive another day! However a lesser superior would turn and run leaving his troops only to be stuck like pigs without even lifting their weapons! Oh the humiliation and shame, you would gain more respect if your mother strangled you at birth!

So listen now and heed my words! Ask any soldier that has seen a battle or two and they will let you know that what I’m talking about is referred within our ranks as the ‘Look Out Sir!’ Rule. Now this doesn’t mean that you run around the battleground screaming at your leader to look out, he doesn’t need a scrubber like you to give him advice! It means a great deal more than that. It demands sacrifice without thought and willingness to die for your Hero.

As you progress through the ranks after each battle, your leader will start to respect you more every passing day. Can you imagine the pride you will feel when his runner summons you to his quarters, to be told that he wishes you to stand by his side holding the brigade's banner or horn! Now that is something very few soldiers ever have a chance to do! With this promotion your leader is not only telling you that he thinks that you are a mighty fine soldier, he is letting you know that he trusts you with his life and that is exactly what you give.

As your brigade approaches the enemy it is well known that you will be peppered by dozens of bolts, arrows and if you extremely unlucky a barrage from war machines. This is the time when you as a front ranker return the trust your leader has given you. When you see the sky filled with missiles of all sorts raining down on your brigade, you as a front ranker must cover your leader from being hit. If this means that you end up hosting an arrow in your back then so be it! For the troops that put themselves in danger for their hero will be the first to drink from your leader's flask, a great honour indeed!

Even though you heroics may save your leader in the most dangerous of times, unfortunately if there are less than five troops including your Leader in the brigade then it is impossible to save him from hostile missiles.

Words of warning to those that think they can get away without protecting their hero. If you refuse to protect your leader just to save your own worthless skin, just imagine what your Hero will do once the battle is over! Trust me the sharp end of a bolt would be more welcome!

Luthaniel Carilliion Many Claw

Freelance

The Smilers

(Written Kos Lesses - 2001)

Intercepted Bellonian Message

Dearest High Archbishop Marcus Lightson,

For two weeks, I have spent many days and nights discussing this nearing war with representatives from the other nations of the Shattered Worlds. Of course, Von Victor of Voltenheim has been predictably indelicate in any peace talks. This is the way of the infidels, and they shall be judged by the One upon their deaths.

Talks, though brief, have been promising between myself and the Everqueen of Western Elodia. She gave needed and useful advice on the placements of our many armies. Particularly, she pointed out that our surplus bowmen would be better controlled if in small units... giving us flexibility and speed. The Everqueen has agreed that our end goals are similar and thus a period of mutual peace between our nations is beneficial to all.

As we had feared, it is clear that this small world is too big for so many diverse groups: war is indeed upon us. The Blessed One will guide us on our Holiest of Missions. The Missionaries from across the lands have been called back to the capital, ready to be deployed. Their Holy books will be replaced by swords and bows; their message of The One will this time be - decidedly - less tactful.

May The Ominous One protect you and our Highest Arch-Lord of The One, Primious Surquel.

- Arch-Monsignor Theodore Swiveldawn
(Representative for The Kights of Bellonia at the Shattered World symposium)

Initial Empire Deployment

The Dark Elves of Cybria

All who read these words would be wise to heed their message of power. I am Izradorra, 5th generation descendant of the

great Queen Morathi and ruler of our dark kin in Cybria. Those that have come before me do not matter and those that follow

will speak of my legend. Our great deity Khaine has blessed me with the wrathful rites and dark gifts of old. My beauty makes the secrets of foolish men known to me and their will bent to my own.

Our kin have endured a long sea voyage on great floating citadels to find refuge in the great frozen tundra of Cybria. The bitter cold serves as a reminder of the icy revenge we inflict upon any force that dares oppose us. With Dragonmaster Kalzahk and his beast at my side and the Sisterblades of Cybria at my command, none shall have the strength of will to stand in our way.

The Elves of Western Elodia

Here follows my own record the story of our people since the great sundering of Ulthuan and the old and new worlds. The destruction of Ulthuan is intensely painful to think of let alone write about. Other historians may write of the great holocaust that struck our people however on this subject alone I shall henceforth remain silent.

I am the Everqueen. I am the sovereign ruler of the Asur, known in the world of men as “High Elves'. By friends and flatterers and at court I am known as Emberfire Heartfelt, ostensibly for the love I bear my people, whether under my direct rule or not. I am the fifth daughter of the fifth daughter of Alarielle the lost Everqueen of Averlorn. For this reason I am sometimes known out of court as Emberfire the Unlikely as it was never foreseen before the dark time that I would succeed as Everqueen. I bear and accept both epithets as a reminder of my own pride and humility.

I am the sole ruler of the Asur. For lost to that tragedy of which I no longer speak of was our beloved Phoenix king Finubar the Seafearer leaving no clear succession. All the best and greatest heroes of old Ulthuan are now lost. Teclis succumbed to an immense inflow of summoned power as he tried to stave off disaster with his art. Tyrion fell to the treacherous Druchii. Imrik of Caledor took to flight on his great worm Minaithnir and has never been seen since and the fate of Eltharion of Tor Yvresse is unknown. My sisters of Averlorn are all lost for they would not leave our beloved forest. I survived only because I was sailing back from the old world on a diplomatic mission to Athel Loren.

We never reached our home destination for our fleet was blown off course and for months we sailed with no clear course evident. Navigational augers no longer made sense and thus we drifted and sailed subsisting as best we could off deep sea fishing. Slowly and inexorably we started to starve and hope was all but lost when we arrived on the shores of western Elodia.

As chance would have it we happened to sail into a bay that formed a natural harbour with protection from the elements afforded by a large stretch of offshore sandbanks. Upon reaching the shore I cast augers for omens which turned out very favourable. With a prayer to Isha I selected the very spot in which we landed to build our new colony. Thus Elodia was founded and our beautiful city of New Caledor was settled. Unfortunately our Wood elf kindred decrying the lack of forested land decided to press onwards to the south and east. We wished them good fortune as their ships sailed into the horizon.

Time has passed and I fear the friendship we once shared with our woodland kin is all but forgotten. I pray that Kurnous will guide them in their lives. To our north Greenskins loom as a constant menace. My advisors at court counsel me to wage war on them but many of the more level headed suggest leaving them to their crags and chasms. Further afield the hateful druchii lurk as an ever present threat to the lives of all free folk. A dwarvern kingdom is still present to the north as are many human kingdoms, baronies, fiefdoms and bandit lairs. So many in fact it is hard to keep track of them as they rise and fall.

The first day of spring however, brings new promise. Our settlements are secure and our people are happy, well fed and prosperous. Only time will tell what lies in wait for the Asur. One thing is certain, while I live I will brook no act of hostility or incursion into Western Elodia. New Caledor will never fall and the Asur will survive and prosper. Thus I scribe to this parchment my heartfelt promise to my people.