The Tale of Years - Part Five

For the complete story click HERE

The Dread Seer of Vorshgar


Of Elves and Dwarfs and of the ancient realm of Nippon

Unwilling to watch the Elven prince Bel Shanaar revel in his stolen throne, Malekith and his sister Alatariel set forth by ship to explore the wide world that was left to them in the wake of the daemon horde's defeat, a journey that would take them away from their homeland of Ulthuan for over sixteen hundred years. 

In the Old World, in the long shadows of the World's Edge Mountains, the pair met and forged a bond with the stoic and stunted Dwarfs, a noble race created too by the magic of the Old Ones. Joining with the Dwarfs, Malekith fought bravely against the ravening Orcs and the darker tainted creatures of the forests left behind by the corruptions of the daemons. 

A great hero, Malekith became renowned for his inspiring leadership and brilliant martial prowess. Soon he was appointed ambassador to the High King of the Dwarfs, Snorri Whitebeard, on behalf of Bel Shanaar; not allowing the irony of this station to vex him... outwardly. 

And all the while, his sister, the fair Alatariel, watched and remained quiet, merely learning everything she could about the peoples and creatures that they met. She was a student of every aspect of the world's ecology and anthropology, gathering to herself greater knowledge and perspective perhaps, than any other observer before or since. 

Content with their explorations of the lands of the Dwarfs, Malekith and Alatariel journeyed farther afield, into the lands that would one day be known as Tilea and Estalia, to Araby and then east to the Dark Lands and the Dragon Isles. They crossed the Mountains of Mourn and journeyed south through the eastern swathes of the great continent. They travelled to Nippon, most ancient of human civilisations, a paradise that had remained untouched by the fell fingers of chaos because of the protection of the Three Eyes of Providence.

Malekith remained for years there, sharing the knowledge of the combative arts he had learned from his father. With no natural enemies, the peaceful Nipponese had no use for the ways of battle but they admired the precision and grace of these "martial" arts and gladly absorbed them into their culture in ritualistic form as a means to sharpen the mind and body. 

While Malekith remained in the largest settlement of Utsukushi, Alatariel wandered the islands, guided by a young boy named Takeda Nagatar. She travelled from the tip of the great northern island to the foot of the south, bringing fellowship and happiness with her gifts and kindness. She earned great trust from the simple folk of the Nipponese and was allowed even to look upon the bright light of one of the Eyes of Providence, showing her gratitude with a little smile.

Into the land that would one day be known as Great Cathay went the travellers next, journeying ever northward into the Eastern Steppes. Here the very land was tainted from the touch of Chaos but the pair were undeterred. They went on into the increasingly bitter conditions, determined to witness all this world had to offer them before their time of exploration was done.

And they came finally to the dead and abandoned city of Vorshgar, a terrifying place formed of colossal stone slabs of material seen nowhere else in the world, with steps too tall for elves or man to climb easily and doorways that towered many hundreds of feet tall. The catacombs beneath the city plummeted thousands of feet below the tundra into dismal and unplumbable depths.

In a lower chamber the pair came across a place for the keeping of precious things; a place of great cold and darkness. If the history scrolls tell us anything, they speak of the cursed Circlet of Iron that Malekith found here, a tainted crown that gestated the seed of evil his birthing had brought into existence; that set him finally on the path to damnation and to all the devastating acts that he went on to perpetrate. But no other history but this speaks of the trinket found by his sister in the same cache, an amber pendant that seemed innocuous on first sight.

Alatariel placed the pendant round her neck and fell immediately into death.

Flying to her side, Malekith did everything he could to rouse her, but in vain. Alatariel was fully dead; no longer any part of the world of living things. The elf lord was more deeply aggrieved than he had ever been before. For days he knelt by her corpse, weeping for his lost sibling, but in time, as the Circlet of Iron on his brow worked its terrible magic, he got to his feet and turned his back on her. He knew it was time now for him to begin his journey homeward, to return to the land of his birth and to the origin of his self-imposed exile.

He left Alatariel to the ice.

But the beautiful elf was not dead; merely slumbering in the dark places of the mind; and when sixty four days had passed her eyes snapped open. They were no longer Elven eyes however. Now, they glowed darkly, almost black, with no whites visible Now they gazed upon vistas no mortal creature had ever known.

The she-elf smiled for she could see all now. She could see almost to the very end of things and she knew what she had to do; what her dark purpose was at last.

She could see all of future history stretching away before her and a billion turning points that might take it in any one of a myriad directions. She could see all possible futures and she could see the one she wanted with all her heart; the one she realised now she had the power to bring about.

In her mind's eye she could picture a broad valley with black mountains to the north and the World's Edge mountains to the east; with a black gulf of sea reaching in from the west. She could see badlands to the south and a time when a great Empire that was yet to exist would think itself safe to the north.

She could see a seemingly unstoppable force arising from a southern land of the dead that for now harboured only life and the war that might occur there, in this valley; in this devil's pathway - a last chance war - to prevent all of civilisation from falling into ruin.

Alatariel gazed long into the dark paths of the future and saw how it all would end and she let herself smile long and broadly.

This was only one of a billion possible futures whose events were perilously unlikely to occur. Left to its own flow, the future would never pass through that valley; these events would never occur. Left to its own flow, the world might truly become a paradise.

Alatariel climbed back to the snow swept surface and started walking away from the great abandoned city with stark purpose.

That was something she would have to ensure never happened. 

This Last Chance War would occur if she had to redirect the mighty flow of history herself. 

Her destiny was set.

Tactical Review: Massacre at the Ruins of Kalkor

Mike:

Well Storm of Magic and Dwarves - do they mix?  Well I still think not but with some crafty usage of points allowance then you can get yourself a cheeky wizard or two as I did.  The other risk and a risk is was, was to put 2 Thanes and a Lord in a unit of warriors, cunning or lucky you decide….. 

In a great game I got very lucky early on blasting Tim’s orcs and managed to kill his general by the end of his turn one with my uber unit and they did an amazing job of pretty much wiping out his entire army.  I got lucky on the magic rolls with only one miscast all game to be honest and poor Tim’s low leadership army just kept failing panic tests.

It’s a great feeling to be winning again.



Tim:


Well this was maybe the most disastrous game I've ever played! By the end of turn ONE I had almost nothing left (though had captured the only arcane fulcrum). It was stunning! 

But still very enjoyable. 


Not sure what I would have done differently really. The strategy I had was fine but I took such hits in the first turn that I was no longer in a position to support it. Things got worse and worse until I lost any chance of winning. If I'd won the first turn dice off things might have been very different but Mike's clever concentration of characters into an unstoppable force may have splintered my plans anyway. Who knows!

Massacre at the Ruins of Kalkor

Mike (Dwarfs) vs Tim (Orcs & Goblins)

And finally the day came when the eyes of evil looked upon the Ruins of Kalkor with growing lust for power; filthy greenskins whose bodies had once been the bodies of men: the Orcs of Gaping Jaw.

But the defenders of the Kalkor; the brave Dwarfs of Karak Hirn, were waiting as they always waited, standing in stout defence as they always had; waiting only for this day.

The Orcs were not the builders of Kalkor but they were almost as deadly, and if this fell place became theirs then they might use it to put cracks in the earth deep enough to swallow the realm of the Dwarfs.

Gunna Gorrasson, Runelord of Karak Hirn prepared the anvil of doom to let fly its cataclysmic power against the animalistic attackers, knowing that the raw power at this dangerous site could only add to its devastating effects.

But all around the ruins, the raging forces of the Orcs closed in, surrounding the ancient edifice, their shaman's tuning into the throbbing energy rising from the earth.

Before they could clamber into the ruins themselves though, Dwarfen warriors uncovered hidden Flame Cannons and hurled burning incendiaries at the howling greenskins, driving them back to the water nearby.

And as they fell back the lightning of the Anvil of Doom incinerated the filthy wretches, turning them to screaming dust as Thunderers let fly their handgun fire.

The attack of the Orcs faltered, and no matter the sudden flood of sorcerous power their Shaman's had, the Orcs had little practise in such might. They were as nothing before the stubborn preparations of the grim garrison. 

At the waterline, the warboss rallied his troops, bellowing for them to charge on, back toward the ruins.

But awaiting them now were the finest warriors of the Dwarfs, a concentration of skill and strength seldom seen, lead from atop his shield bearers by the Dwarf king, Durak Grund himself!

The Orcs had little chance, floundering to remanoeuvre as the lightning of the Anvil of Doom shattered their ranks.

Nothing would allow their filthy claws to close on this most precvious and powerful place. Nothing would stop the Dwarfs defending it.

The Orcs were scattered and fled or they were slaughtered and Gunna Gorrasson struck the anvil once more, not in attack this time, but in triumph.

The Ruins of Kalkor were safe for now but the Orcs would come again.

And someday something far far worse.

Precision in Death: The Tale of a Massacre

Tim (Dwarfs) vs Gill (Orcs & Goblins) 

The horde came from Gaping Jaw with only murder in mind: huge blocks of bellowing Orcs and giggling goblins; clattering chariots and baying wolves; a towering giant wielding the axle from a smashed cart.

But the Dwarfs of Horn Hold were more than ready for them.

Orchestrated by their lord, Durak Grund, the mighty stunters stood wait in a perfect gun line, waiting for the greenskins to close within range, cannons and handguns loaded and ready. They were presighted and poised and the second that the Orcs past the marker bushes that represented the entry to the killing field the Dwarfs opened fire.

Into the sheet of gunfire and cannon ball, the Orcs & Goblins kept running, crying in rage and blood lust, but they were being picked off one by one by one by one until first dozens and then hundreds were falling in blood soaked death.

Never before within the Border Princes had such intensity of precision fire been heard as the Dwarfs fire discipline had them stepping forward and back to reload and then fire again in a constant volley of reciprocal murder.

The surviving greenskins broke and they fled but even that was no escape from the Dwarfs as a Gyrocoptor took to the air and scalded them to death with boiling steam.

The Orcs had come to the land of the Dwarfs but not one of them left alive.

On the Painting Table: Dwarf Organ Gun

You’ve gotta love Dwarfs! 

 

Once again here, I’ve created a mini-diorama of sorts for my war machine crew. It’s taken me a long time to get round to painting this (there are still a fair few unpainted models in my Dwarf army box  from Christmas two or three years ago) but I’m really looking forward to seeing it in action in the game.

My strategy with these things involves cramming everything I can onto the base and making it look as busy as possible – an easy task with this many spare components!