The Farstrider Scout

Fight night down at Wizard’s Keep was fun, despite yet another loss, this time against Imperial Guard.  Not enough anti-armor on my part, though I did manage to immobilize one Vendetta and wreck a Chimera, as well as wipe out two infantry squads.  Mike was extremely helpful and pointed out that it took him a long time to win a battle too…  So, I’m learning, and tweaking.  The higher points value armies that we’ve been playing with seem to have helped me out as well.

I did, however, purchase a Gun Drone squad, one of the few Tau items available at the shop, and today spent about 3.5-4 hours painting one up.  I forgot to add sept markings for identification until after I took the first round of photos, so I had to go back and add them, but I’m happy with the overall result.  For the sept markings, I ended up deciding on the Tau equivelant of TFS, for The Farstrider Scout.

That’s my current record with the Tau.  Not off to a good start…  But what I should NOT say is that I’m doing everything “right” and that I’m not learning anything;  I’m not, and I am.  I’m sure a large part of my frustration lies in the fact that I still don’t know the rules (big thanks to the people I played with today for all their patience and help), nor do I know all the little ins and outs of each army, much less my own.  I’m still forgetting specific rules that apply to me (such as Orks as Preferred Enemy when playing with Farsight), and it’s hurting me.  That particular one, had I remembered it, could have bought me some valuable hits/wounds against my opponent’s command squad in the last match we played tonight.  Anyway, down to the meat of the matter – what exactly happened today?  I really need to start taking notes and pictures, but I always feel that it would some how be intruding, though for the last match we were definitely strapped for time (only got to turn three) and couldn’t have afforded it.  So, I’ll try to go from memory.

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This weekend I had the opportunity to borrow someone’s Tau army and play in a Warhammer 40k (40,000) tournament.  My first two opponents were very understanding and helpful in trying to teach me how to play, so big kudos to them.  It actually ended up being very interesting and very enlightening, dispite the fact that I got my ass kicked all over the table, as it were.  By the third and final match though, I had learned to keep moving – the Tau’s strengths are their mobility and their high ranged damage output.  Any melee combat that I found myself locked into was typically lost.

There were a few defining and hilarious moments in each match, however, such as the one to the left.  In that particular one, I had moved my command squad into a building for height purposes and also because that position was actually behind the rear/right flank of my opponent’s line.  My two battlesuits were enough to cause my opponent, who was playing Tyranids, to divert several of his troops;  they proceded to climb the wall and slaughter my command squad.  Everything after that was pretty much hopeless as I watched my first tank crash and burn, my second one explode from a rear ambush, both Devilfish APCs get disabled, and my infantry get overrun by foes that had superior arms/armor and far outnumbered me.  Of the four objectives on the map, I was able to contest ONE – with a wrecked APC – for a loss.

The second match, against Orks, proved to be slightly better.  The objective this time was simple annihalation, and I managed to destroy the command vehicle within my first turn, forcing the squad to continue on foot, so I was off to a good start.  Unfortunately, that’s about as good as it got.  I didn’t move my tanks fast enough, and so with in a short time the Orks caught up to them and proceded to tear chunks out of their hulls.  The only upside to this meant that my vehicle-mounted anti-personnel flechettes that were mounted on the tanks were able to whittle down their numbers considerably, and then the ensuing explosion from one of the tanks all but wiped out what was left of one squad.  That’s about where things ended, as once again I lost both APC’s, and both tanks, and my infantry squads were down to two troops when the judge called time and the game ended.

The third and final match was against Space Marines, and was also another objective match.  While I didn’t come out quite as bad as far as units went, I was not able to contest either of the two objectives.  It didn’t help that I had placed mine in a tight corner where my units wouldn’t be able to fight well.  The defining moment of this game was bringing my two Piranhas – high speed scout skimmers (Think “snow speeder” from Star Wars and you’ll have a close picture) in from reserves in an out flank maneuver.  This placed them well behind enemy lines, and as things had it, right by the building that the enemy commander was in…  So I blew it up.  Unfortunately, vehicle and building explosions don’t neccessarily destroy their occupants, so all I really did was piss him off.  My first Piranha was quickly turned into a flaming wreck, and as the second tried to escape, moving flat out for its full available movement value, the commander shot it in the rear, penetrating the armor and causing that one to wreck as well.  The match ended shortly after that, for my third loss.

Overall, what mattered to me was that A) I had fun, and B) I met people.  The person who so kindly offered to lend me his army has said the offer remains open for the future, provided I give him a heads up, so I’m likely to be doing more of this soon.

The wind ripped through the mountains, cutting icily to the bone… He did not care. The cold burned like an ungodly fire, stealing the warmth from his veins… He still did not care. The snow stung his eyes, drifting up around his legs, getting deeper and shortening his strides by the minute… He did not care. His wife, his son, his hold, and his honor had been stolen from him in one swift stroke, and there was nothing Haegan could do would that ever bring him back, yet still, a small voice niggled in the back of his mind, whispering – You fool. You’ll die to the cold at this rate, and your vengeance will never come to pass. What kind of death is that for a Slayer? You should have risked the Undgrin road, at least then you would have chanced for an honorable death, not to mention a faster path to Karak Kadrin.

The cold thoughts stung like a knife, and slowly his course turned, taking him down from the mountains and into the sheltering trees, but it was a half blind, half frozen dwarf that stumbled into the forest, and the trees of the forest are no less forgiving of dwarfs than the cold rock of the mountain peaks. Sight stolen by the wind and the snow, it did not take long for Haegan to stumble, for dwarfs are not as surefooted in the forests as they are on the stone and rock of the places they call home. A low hanging branch rising swiftly out of the gloom of night ended all thoughts and brought a deeper dark as he lost consciousness.

Haegan did not know how long it was that he had slept, but what he did know was that he was not in the same place he had been in when the poorly placed branch had ended his thoughts. It was daylight now, but the forest canopy overhead blocked the sun, and so the misty glade he was in was a muted grey, deepening the shadows of the deeper wood around him. He sat up slowly and, placing his hands on the ground to steady himself, was surprised to find himself laying on a bed of soft green moss. His pack and water skin lay just out of arms reach, leaning up against a rock, but of his axes there was no sign.

Finding his mouth as dry as the southern deserts, he picked himself up and sat down on the rock by his pack, taking a swig from the skin and fishing a piece of waybread from the pack. His eyes wandered as he munched, slowly coming to his senses, taking in his surroundings, trying to determine where he was. The entire glade was covered in soft grass, only broken by a few patches of moss covered ground, such as the one he had awoken on, and an occasional rock here and there.

But it was the object at the center of the glade that interested him the most – A circular fountain stood there, illuminated by a few scant sunbeams that had managed to break through the canopy. The water danced down from tier to tier, catching the light and reflecting the golden beam, a soft quiet burble being the only sound that broke the tranquil silence of the glade.

Something stirred within the fountain, and Haegan frowned. What sorcery is this that brought me here to this place? The thought came unbidden as he searched for something to use as a weapon, though he had no doubt in his mind that whatever he found would do little against magic. He found none though, and turned back to the fountain in time to see a woman break the surface, water streaming from her body. Haegan watched, mouth agape, for she was truthfully the most beautiful of human women he had ever seen.
Her hair was a blond that caught the sunbeams, flowing like molten gold, gleaming pure and bright in its wetness, the light giving the illusion of a halo around her head. Brilliant blue eyes, clear as the sky, watched him with a dancing smile that was made complete by her soft red lips. She was garbed in a pure white gown that clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination, and her skin was almost as white, pale as the moon.

But it was the object she brought with her that truly caught his attention. Her hands rested on the pommel of a large twin bladed crescent axe, its head resting on the ground in the fashion of many a dwarfen statue. The sunbeams caught this too, reflecting off its finely honed edge. The haft was clearly formed of wutroth, a wood prized by the dwarfs who held stone and metal above all other crafting materials, its dark luster gleaming as it shed the water clinging to it. The blade itself was something to behold, a gromril alloy chased in bloodgold, with faintly glowing runes that exuded power.

The golden haired woman spoke then, her voice clear and musical, “Fear not, master Dwarf, for I come bearing tidings, and a gift.”

I always seem to have issues when it comes to completing projects I start, especially if they’re personal projects and have no deadline.  The Loot Bag Goblins have gone untouched for the greater part of this week due to an exercise at work…  And when I did have time to paint, I turned my attentions to a Ziggurat of Doom that I’m building as a scenario to play eventually.

The top two tiers of the Ziggurat are cut, etched, weathered, and primered, and I purchased more paint and a larger brush to tackle the final two tiers, one 18″ wide and one 24″ wide. Lots of work to do there.

But, yet again, the train of thought switches tracks and I ended up painting, and finishing, one of the models from the Battle for Skull Pass box – a captive Dwarf Slayer. Eyes are a little googly, but wouldn’t yours be after getting clobbered and tied up by a bunch of goblins? He’ll probably be pretty pissed when he comes to his senses, and I’m sure my technique with eyes will improve with time.

Not really related to the main army I’m trying to put together, but the Battle for Skull Pass kit came with a Goblin army as well, which included a large number of Night Goblin Spearmen. Ten of these (the box came with 30 or so, despite the fact that it says it only has 20), have small bags on their hips… Which have now become LOOT BAGS!!!

In the end, I plan on having 3 white loot bags, 3 green, 2 blue, 1 gold, and the 1 purple I’ve already painted.  Perfect for your public quest!

Well, 16 has moved to twenty, and I’ve dropped the champion from the initial group. I may still make him, since the concept I had for him was pretty cool (I think), but as far as the actual game goes, while viable, would be a detriment to the army, I think. So shields and heavy armor for all!

In the meantime, I’ve done some digging and come up with a tentative 2500 point army list, as follows:

• Kerik Silvershield, Dwarf Lord, with Gromril armor and shield
  • Kerik will serve as the army’s General
  • Contemplating adding an 10 man Ironbreaker unit as a guard, but this will push the points over 2500.  May have to prune something else off to allow for it, as I highly doubt Kerik would be one to stay in the background, and being alone would make him vulnerable.
• Handri Grimtome, Runesmith, with Master Rune of Spellbinding and Rune of Warding.
• 1 unit of 20 Dwarf Warriors with Heavy Armor and Shields, Musician, and Standard Bearer
• 1 unit of 20 Dwarf Warriors with Heavy Armor and Shields, Musician, and Standard Bearer
• 1 unit of 20 Dwarf Longbeards with Musician and Standard Bearer
• 1 unit of 20 Dwarf Miners with Musician, Standard Bearer, and Champion
  • Planning on adding a Steam Drill but this was not listed in the book I have
• 1 unit of 10 Dwarf Thunderers with Musician and Standard Bearer
• 1 unit of 10 Dwarf Quarrelers with Ranger Upgrade, Shields, Musician, Standard Bearer
• 1 unit of 20 Ironbreakers with Musician, Standard Bearer, led by Thane Daengar Stonehammer with Gromril Armor and Shield
• Grudge Thrower
• Cannon, led by Engineer Rukar Stonefist, with a Rune of Reloading
• Organ Gun
• Gyrocopter

Unfortunately the army book I’m using is outdated, so point values and units will have to be tweaked once I get the updated book, but fortunately birthday money will help with that.

I’d also considered adding Brexar Handrisson as a Dragonslayer, but for two things.  First, given the point value of the army, I can’t have more than 4 characters in the army, so it ended up being a choice between the Runesmith and the Dragonslayer, and the utility the Runesmith provides won out.  Secondly, Brexar, being a Slayer isn’t likely to stick around once Kerik settles in at his new post, and will probably strike out with Arvelen.

It has begun! If you listen closely enough, you can hear the ring of hammers on steel at the dwarf forges of Barak Varr, as slowly but surely, an army begins to form… Starting with 16 stalwart dwarf warriors, first up are the standard bearer, musician, and champion, and the unit’s assorted weaponry and shields!

After several hours of searching, Brexar finally found Arvelen down at the Royal Stables, grooming his Ellyrian steed. “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you, and you’re down here tending to your… Food.” Brexar remarked with a toothy grin.

“Wind Dancer is not food, dwarf.” Arvelen bristled briefly, until he turned around and saw the young Slayer smiling. “But then, you wouldn’t know fine cuisine if it were sat in front of you, would you?” He shot back with a smirk.

“Haw! You got me there, elf.” Brexar guffawed.

“And what brings you in such an urgent search of me?” Arvelen turned back to the horse and continued grooming.

“Kerik’s leavin’. He just got word that their hold was overrun, and his father’s dead. He’s heading south to meet up with what’s left of his people and guide them to Barak Varr. Wants us to come with him.” Brexar leaned up against a post and pulled out a pipe before lighting it.

“Very well. My things are already packed. When do we leave.”

Brexar took a few puffs on the pipe, blowing smoke rings out into the air. “Tomorrow, before dawn. You know what this means, right?”

“Perhaps you should explain.” Arvelen turned and looked at the dwarf quizzically.

Brexar scowled. “The boy’s father’s dead. That makes him King. He won’t be joining us in battle again, not any time soon, and certainly not like it used to be. And when he does, he’ll have an army at his back.”

The warhawk sat, perched high above the ground, on a small outcropping of rock jutting out from the cliff face, surveying the land around it. It was a clear day, even for the ruined lands of Nagarythe, though dark storm clouds still threatened on the horizon, flickering with multicolored hues. Its eyes saw everything in that ruined landscape, catching every tiny movement, waiting for that moment, that perfect moment when it would spot something worth calling “prey” and swoop down upon it, tearing into it with beak and talons. It could take all day, but the hunter was patient. It would wait, unmoving as stone, until that perfect moment presented itself.

Far below it, perched in a sickly tree, sat another hunter. From his vantage point, Arvelen saw everything that the warhawk saw, caught every movement that the warhawk caught, but mostly had his attention focused on the warhawk itself. Unbeknownst to the warhawk, the Asur had given this particular one a name – Bloodtalon. While not nearly as large as its kin that resided in the forests of Athel Loren, it was no less majestic, a champion of its kind. A survivor of the wasteland.

In troubled times, Arvelen always sought refuge in the ruins of his homeland, coming out to the warhawk’s territory, to watch it hunt in solitude, and to think. As the war dragged on, Arvelen found himself visiting more and more, seeking solitude himself, answers from within…

A flicker of movement appeared in a patch of grass far out in the open, highlighted by the sunbeam that had appeared to kiss the ravaged landscape… And high above on the cliff face, Bloodtalon spread his wings and dove. There was a flurry of movement as the pray realized its position, but it was all too late. Moments later, the warhawk’s head could be seen above the grass, its beak dripping with fresh blood, ever the efficient hunter.