It took him a long time to calm down enough to realize that the enemy had not pursued him. Perhaps they had realized that they would not overtake him on foot. Or perhaps they were content to let the deadly swamps do their work for them. This was entirely possible, Korhiel realized – by the time he stopped, he had no idea where he was and he realized he was very fortunate to have made it this far without accident. Tired and heartbroken, he eventually dismounted, dressed his wounds as best he could, and lay down to wait out the darkness.
He awoke from a fitful sleep in the dim light before dawn to discover that he was no longer alone. His trail through the swamps had been followed after all. A sorry band of battered High Elves was working its way toward him. Swordmasters, White Lions, Silver Helms on foot – the other survivors of the previous day’s battle. At their head was the banner bearer of the Sea Guard, however he no longer carried his regiment’s standard. Instead he carried the muddied and tattered banner of Lord Eldain – the very same banner that Korhiel had lost as he fled the field.
They looked to Korhiel to lead them, as the highest ranked survivor. This was embarrassing given his lack of experience and his panicked flight from his first battle, but he swallowed his doubts in the face of their need. He did refuse to take back the banner, however. “You saved it from the field, the honour is now yours,” he told him.
Together they made their way through the swamps, in the direction Korhiel best guessed might lead them back to their ships. There were only a score of them, but if they could reach the beaches they would be able to be reinforced. They were certainly in no condition to continue their campaign at they were. It was unfortunate then, that they stumbled straight into a band of Nurgle worshippers as they played in the foul mud of the swamps…
Lord Scroltch and his followers were frolicking in the mud when the High Elves came into view. The Chaos Warriors were absolutely coated in filth. The weapons were lying all over the place, and their shields had been left behind somewhere (nobody really seemed sure where). On the bright side, they had constructed a glorious array of mud castles, complete with moats, drawbridges made of rotting wood and flagpoles using leaves.
Upon sighting the Elves, Lord Scroltch gurgled delightedly. The Elves were muddy and disheveled. Clearly they liked playing in the swamps too. He splashed forward through the fens toward them, his warriors charging alongside enthusiastically, roaring in their excitement.
In the swamps not far away, a pair of giants were lumbering along behind a Truthsayer. The druid took care as he walked, making sure to find a safe path through the marshes. The giants were less concerned with where they stepped, sploshing through and trusting in their immense size to protect them from any potential hazards.
The three of them stopped suddenly when they heard the roaring of the Chaos Warriors. The Truthsayer’s eyes widened in alarm. It sounded like the enemy had found his target before he could. They would have to hurry.
Nick Gentile's High Elves had been soundly thrashed in their first game against the Dark Elves, so they were clearly on the back foot. It might seem unfair that they then have to face Owen's victorious Chaos Warriors, but these games are not as much about even battles as they are about telling a story.
This game was another unusual scenario. The High Elves started with a miserable 500 points or so of survivors, deployed first and got the second turn, however they then had 1500 points of reinforcements arrive in Turn 1. The Fen Beasts were permitted to deploy in any swamp, whilst the Giants and Truthsayer had to walk on from a table edge.
Game 7: With a Little Help From My Friends
|500 points vs 2000. It's funny, but it doesn't look that uneven on the table. Stupid expensive Chaos characters.|