The Shadows Return: Game 4

Whilst the Lizardmen intercepted part of the advancing Dark Elf force, the High Elves were tasked with stopping the remainder. This battle was another Meeting Engagement, fought between Nick Gentile's High Elves and Tim Stewart's Witch Elves Dark Elves (there are totally some models that are not Witch Elves in there somewhere)...

If you didn't see it already, an introduction for this game is included here.

As I was busy playing on another table, Owen scribed for this game and took photos with his phone. I have included his original notes at the bottom, as they are always amusing. And mostly nonsensical. But what can you do?

Game 4: Murder on the March

Deployment. Note that quite a lot of stuff is missing due to both Tim and Nick rolling a lot of 1s.

The High Elf lines. The Archmage Caelir leads the Sea Guard on the hill.

Only about half the models in Tim's army start on the field, with the Supreme Sorceress leading the Executioners.

The rapid march of the High Elf column turned quickly into a hurried attempt to form a line of battle as the first Witch Elves came into view through the mists. Orders were shouted and the regiments moved immediately to comply. The discipline really was very impressive. Not that it could save them from Khaine’s wrath.

Erathi and her lunatic friends

Erathi, Death Mistress of Khaine, smiled wickedly as she watched the Asur trying to suppress their panic as they scrambled to respond to her army’s sudden appearance. She reclined against the base of the Altar of Khaine as it crept toward the enemy, gliding along by mysterious means. Around her strode legions of her favoured Witch Elves, brandishing their poisoned blades and hissing at their hated kin. They were prepared for this battle, and had already worked themselves up into a drug-fuelled frenzy. Executioners advanced in silence, their deadly blades resting upon their armoured shoulders until the moment they were needed. At their head was the Sorceress Moreth, already chanting baleful words as she gathered the Winds of Magic about her. Harpies screeched overhead, waiting to feast upon the dying and wounded that they knew would soon be available.

The High Elves were not yet completely in position as the Executioners neared the centre of the field. Seeking to exploit and compound the enemy’s confusion, Moreth hurled a wave of searing energy at the Swordmasters of Hoeth. The armour began to glow and smoke as the Sorceress continued the barrage with hand outstretched. The burning light illuminated the savage and wild snarl on her face as she threw more and more power into the spell. Her enthusiasm was commendable, however the subsequent loss of control was not. Moreth’s expression suddenly shifted from feral aggression to concern and then to horror as she lost hold of the spell and it instead took a hold of her. The surging golden energy wavered, swirled, and then turned and wrapped themselves around her. She gave a cry of anguish as the vortex tightened and then seemed to sink into her from all sides, and then erupted again in a mighty explosion. Executioners were blasted from their feet, many of them not rising again. Mud showered nearby regiments as a great crater was torn into the ground. As the surviving Executioners recovered and dusted themselves off, they looked around for any sign of the reckless Sorceress, but Moreth was gone.

Well that was a cameo appearance. She killed a lot more Executioners than Swordmasters...

The confusion that followed finally gave the High Elves their chance to recover, and they responded with a hail of shots from their Bolt Throwers and the bows of the Sea Guard. A pack of Harpies was torn to pieces by their combined fire.  Silver Helms took up a position on the army’s flank and prepared to threaten the Executioners as they regrouped their shattered formation. The regiment was further hindered by the High Elf mage, who took full advantage of the sudden absence of his Dark Elf counterpart by showering the regiment with icy shards and in an unnatural wind that seemed to wrap around the Dark Elves and weave its way between them, caressing each one in an unsettling manner.

The late arrivals for both sides are now on the field.

Silver Helms arrive on the flank, led by Prince Eldain and his BSB, Korhien.

The Harpies vanish as the High Elves open fire.

The Executioners observed the enemy coming within reach, however they knew they were in no fit state to engage them whilst beset by so many magical distractions, so they settled for adopting a defensive stance whilst absently swatting and things that may or may not have been tickling their ears. Along the line, scores of spitting, hissing Witch Elves caught up with the suddenly stuttering advance of the Executioners.  Erathi could see the discomfort of the waiting High Elves as her blood-crazed maidens approached. Scooping her goblet into the steaming, bubbling blood that filled the cauldron beside her, she held it aloft and gloried in the feel of the hot blood trickling down between her fingers. As she did so, a wave of rage and excitement shot out from the cauldron. All around her the eyes of her followers widened and they shrieked and thrashed at the air in their desperate need to inflict violence upon their foes. The ranks of Asur murmured and shifted uncomfortably at the sight of their kin reduced to such an animalistic state.

The  main Dark Elf line advances, whilst the smaller group of Witch Elves that actually started on the table has made it to the forest in the centre.

Looks like the Executioners were making sure the Silver Helms didn't wind up in their flank.

The High Elf general and his standard bearer rode through their lines, reassuring the troops with their presence and shouting orders to help them focus on the task at hand. A pack of Witch Elves had advanced as far of the copse of trees near the foot of the hill, and they now became the target of the massed archery of the Asur. Bolts and arrows filled the air, striking Witch Elf and tree in equal measure. Half a dozen of the enraged Druchii fell under the barrage, but the rest showed no regard for their losses.

On the flank, the Silver Helms saw that the Executioners had noted their approach and were prepared. Rather than rush headlong into their wicked blades, their champion raised a gauntleted hand to delay the charge and they shifted their mounts slightly restlessly as they waited for a more opportune moment.

Erathi continued to lead the main body of the Witch Elves toward the Asur lines, but the smaller group in the trees had run out of patience and rushed straight for the ranks of Sea Guard. More arrows filled the gap between them as the well-drilled High Elves responded with one final shot before lowering spears and bracing for the impact. Several Witch Elves fell during the charge, but it did not slow the remainder. They threw themselves into the midst of the Sea Guard, heedless of the damage dealt by their spear wall. All but two of the Dark Elves perished in the charge, but they took a terrible toll upon their enemy. Almost a dozen Sea Guard fell, and the Archmage was left reeling from multiple slashes and stabs. The punishment disrupted the ranks of the High Elves, but at a sharp order from their leader they moved seamlessly into a more defensive formation.

The Sea Guard adopt a deeper formation after the Witch Elves shred a huge hole on the unit. Despite Curse of the Midnight Wind.

The High Elves were slow to respond to the aggression of the Witch Elves, and the regiments of White Lions and Swordmasters were forced to shift into a better position. The Silver Helms were still unwilling to engage the Executioners, who had taken a few steps back and were sneering in their direction, daring them to charge. They brought their mounts forward a few paces in return, the better to hurl flowery (and entirely unimaginative) insults.

The Silver Helms are moved up as sacrificial lambs to protect the flank of the White Lions.

The Asur Mage had been doing his best to magically hinder the Witch Elves as they approached, but it had not been enough. His efforts continued even as the last of them drove an envenomed blade into his chest. She then gave a shriek of triumph, and to everyone’s surprised she turned on her heel and capered away, waving her blades around to shower blood on everything in the general vicinity. The Sea Guard cursed and moaned slightly at their misfortune. They had seen off the enemy charge, but they had failed to protect their leader.

The sole surviving Witch Elf runs off giggling, having shanked the Archmage. She would not make it off the field - a Bolt Thrower shot her in the back sometime later.

The blurry Executioners charge in to dismember the blurry Silver Helms.

Things are getting messy now.

The Silver Helms paid the price for their lack of decisiveness when the Executioners suddenly surged toward them whilst they were in the middle of a particularly flowery and meaningless insult. The unit champion barely had time to finish listing their imagined parentage before the Druchii were upon them and he had to hurriedly drop the handkerchief he had been waving about and draw his sword. Around him the Silver Helms had dropped their lances and were lashing out with their blades. They had surprising difficult penetrating the heavy armour of their assailants however, and only brought down a single Executioner before they were hacked down with ruthless efficiency. A few turned to flee, but were felled before their horses could take another step.

Well that was one-sided. And nobody was even watching. Look at those White Lions marching on, ignoring the sacrifice of their comrades.

The fall of the Silver Helms went largely unnoticed by the rest of the High Elf lines. Their attentions were focused upon the masses of Witch Elves streaming up the hill and into the Sea Guard. In their midst rode Erathi upon her gliding altar, sword and bloody goblet held aloft as she cackled insanely. Further waves of madness rolled irresistibly out from the cauldron, drawing bloodcurdling shrieks from the lips of the Witch Elves as they launched themselves bodily into the fray. This time the hurried shots from the bows of the Asur failed to find their targets, seeming to bend away at the last moment. The cauldron shimmered in a haze of heat and maleficent magical energies, protecting Khaine’s devotees surrounding it.

The Sea Guard champion stepped into the path of the monstrous altar as it approached, shouting a brave challenge though his face was pale and his eyes wide. The Hag leading the Witch Elf charge altered her path slightly and leapt at him. A flurry of blades saw the With Elf fall to the High Elf’s spear, but he fared no better, staggering back and collapsing with the hilts of two blades protruding from his chest.

Will it blend?

Erathi continued to laugh as she reached the enemy ranks, leaping down the stairs of the altar to scythe through the hapless Sea Guard. In the blink of an eye she had cut down several, and her crazed followers were just as ruthless. Screams and blood filled the air as the High Elves were butchered. Within moments, only the bearer of the regimental standard remained. He looked about him in horror, then dropped the standard with a wail and fled into the trees behind him. Little effort was made to pursue him, as the Witch Elves were busy cavorting in the blood that was now all about. The stifled gasps of a nearby Bolt Thrower crew soon caught their attention however, and they were hacked apart in a similar fashion.

The Witch Elves overrun into a Bolt Thrower, having narrowly missed the BSB.

Nick closely observes his stuff dying.

The Swordmasters were moving with intent toward the Witch Elves, however they found their path blocked by shrieking Harpies as they dropped from the sky to tear at faces and helms with their talons. The Swordmasters swatted them from the air with consummate ease, however they had missed their opportunity to engage the Witch Elves whilst they were distracted. The Prince and his standard bearer both heeled their horses forward with the intent of engaging the second wave of Witch Elves that was approaching, however their horses found the soft ground treacherous and their charges lost their impetus. The Swordmasters had soon swept on past, pressing forward despite the distraction of the Harpies.

The Swordmasters hack through the Harpies and overrun a mile - way past the High Elf characters who both tried and failed to charge this unit of Witch Elves despite needing to roll a 5 and a 6 or something.

Having smashed a hole through the lines of the Asur, Erathi was forced to wait as her Witches regrouped in search of fresh enemies. She turned to see the remaining Witch Elf pack charge headlong into the Swordmasters, who stood ready to receive them. There could be no doubting their skills as their whirled their huge swords in shining arcs, but the Witch Elves were not so encumbered and attacked in a storm of stabbing and slashing. Eight of the crazed Dark Elves were cut down, but a dozen Swordmasters fell in the initial exchange of blows and the force of the charge proved to be overwhelming. The surviving High Elves lost their nerve and turned to flee, but were dragged down by the gloating Witch Elves.

Swordmasters are very skilful, but this is a bad match up for them.

Things are looking grim for the Asur.

The White Lions braced themselves as they turned and found the Executioners bearing down upon them. Warriors on both sides hefted their brutal double-handed weapons, and then the killing began. Eight Executioners were hacked down by the heavy woodsman axes of the High Elves, but at the same time more than a dozen White Lions were dismembered. It was a terrible toll, but the White Lions of Chrace are famed for their tenacity and the survivors held their ground.

Owwww. Hey look, the Witch Elf hasn't been shot yet. Owen's notes assure me that she will be, though. At some point.

The carnage was horrible, but the High Elves were not yet prepared to yield. The Prince and his standard charged side by side into the Witch Elves as Erathi’s own regiment watched on. The High Elf nobles cut down a handful of the Witch Elves as they were quickly surrounded by a storm of blades, hissing faces and wild hair. It should have been a suicidal charge, but the Asur trusted in their fine armour and their confidence was not misplaced. Seemingly impervious to harm, they pushed the Witch Elves back and battered some of their wild energy out of them with shield, blade and hoof.

The High Elf BSB wades into the Witch Elves, with the Prince doing the same up the other end of the unit somewhere. You can just see his feathery ears poking above the front rank there.

Oh dear.

Any progress they were making was to be short-lived, however. The Executioners quickly finished off the last of the White Lions before charging into the unprotected rear of the High Elf Prince, whilst Erathi’s massed Witch Elves surged down the hill and into the flank of the Elf battle standard bearer. The Prince saw her coming and shouted a challenge. The Executioners slowed their charge in disappointment as Erathi laughed mockingly at the challenge and gestured for the Prince to come closer. She was still laughing in a condescending fashion as they exchanged a flurry of blows. Standing upon the altar of Khaine, she knew the God of Murder would protect his servant. Her confidence was shaken somewhat when the Prince’s shining blade slide smoothly beneath her over-confident defences and between her ribs. Blood bubbled from her lips as she collapsed with a disappointed whimper, mixing with the blood that spilt from her goblet as it fell from limp fingers.

If the Witch Elves noticed their leader’s fall, they gave no sign. They were busy hammering at the defences of the Asur standard bearer from all sides. At last a stab found some purchase and the High Elf cried out, but it was not enough to break his resistance completely and he fought on.

Having dispatched the Death Hag, the High Elf Prince called boldly for another honourable challenger. His strident cries fell upon deaf ears however, as the smirking Executioners moved in upon their prey once more. 

*****

Korhiel was fighting frantically against enemies all about him. Despite the protection his glittering ithilmar armour offered, he was already wounded; he was fighting for his life. He caught glimpses of the Druchii Executioners closing in upon Lord Eldain's position, but there was little he could do other than cry out a warning. He had no doubt that Eldain was already aware of their approach; he was a very experienced warrior and one did not survive countless engagements without a good level of battlefield awareness.

Korhiel lost sight of his mentor as a hissing Witch Elf leapt at him, trying to bear him bodily out of the saddle. He twisted and swept his shield around, deflecting the crazed Witch's leap and sending he tumbling back in amongst her companions. 

Suddenly the fighting eased slightly as the Druchii seemed to pause for a moment. There was a brief hush until a bloodied Executioner rose above the surrounding warriors, with one arm held aloft. In his hand was Eldain's severed head. All around, the Dark Elves howled their approval, brandishing their weapons overhead and shrieking Khaine's name to the skies.

Korhiel sobbed. His eyes filled with tears and he momentarily forgot where he was. Desperate to escape the sight in front of him, he wrenched around on the reins of his barded steed and crashed through the distracted Witch Elves. Somewhere along the way he lost his grip on the banner he had been charged to carry. The sigil of Lord Eldain fell into the bloodied mud and was lost - a victim of the same battle that had claimed the life of its master.

*****

Owen's original notes (language warning. He got excited at times)...
Albion Campaign
Battle the Fourth

Snooty, Well groomed elitist elves (Mr. Nick Gentile)
Vs
Ill tempered, Bloodthirsty hobo elves (Mr. Tim Whats-his- name. No really, I know it. I’m
having a brain fart)
Points: Two of your pathetic earthling thousands.
Scenario:
HE Spells:
DE Spells: Searing Doom, Withering thingee, Transmutation of Lead (into huge profits
according to the GW business model)
The roll off: Tim wins the roll. Then he takes the other side of the table. Then he realises it’s
one of those crazy diagonal scenarios, and stays where he is.

Deployment ensues.

First Tim. Then Nick.

“We’re just mashing stuff together and rolling dice dude!” – N. Gentile.
A large number of young ladies is revealing costumes assemble on Tim’s side of the table.
And also on his side of the battlefield.

Mr. Gentile hurls bolt throwers around with gay abandon. They end up on hills. A hill.
His elves cower in close proximity. The cowards.

Suddenly, Tim remembers some sort of hidden deployment rule, and half his army
disappears off the board. Gentile is not phased by this as his army remains. Apart from the
Silver helms, the wizard and the BSB. He is now phased. Tim changes his deployment.

Nick does not, since he’s not finished yet anyway.
The white loins are deployed!
Nick does not steal the first turn.

DE Turn one: IN which Tim does STUFF!

• A small witch elf regiment moseys on. And the bigger one also does the same.
Everything is on the Owen-wards edge of the board. He has some sort of gravity field
going on.

• A small quantity of harpies flaps onto the board also.
• Witch elves behind the hill shamble onto the hill and pivot sexily.
• Executioners waddle Gentile-wards somewhat.
• Tim has allocated focus to the harpies.
• Tim measures thing with intense concentration. He looks like he knows what he’s
doing.

• 10 magic dice, 5 for Nick, who channels and has SIX MIGHTY DISPEL DICE!
Mwahahahahaha!
• Exit Tim in search of army book.
• Enter Tim with army book.
• “Things are going to get shot” – Tim.
• “Which things?”- Gentile – perhaps he means ‘Witch things’ and is foretelling his turn.
• Gentile knocks a tree over.
• Searing doom on Sword Masters. It is irresistible. Nothing happens, but it’s a 2 on
miscast.
• Oh dear.
• wakkasokkogabadaBOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!! 1
• A mighty quest to find the right template reveals…
• 11 executioners affected!
• Two harpies!
• One Harpy dies!
• The supreme witch bitch looks out.
• NINE executioners die! Leadership test? Immunity? No, that is witchy poo elves.
• Roll of a 3. They panic not, but do not seem happy.
• 6 dice are lost. Tim has one left.
• His wizard goes down the hole.
• This apparently means she is dead, Owen knows not.

HE Turn one: In which Mr. Gentile strokes his chin and looks intent.

• Silver helms sally forth.
• White Loins amble forth gently.
• Sword master may have moved, it’s hard to tell.
• Sea Guard, deprived of any seas to guard, wander forward a bit, presumably
mistaking their hill for an island.
• Much consultation of tape measures.

• MAGIC!

• Seven dice.
• Thunderbolt on harpies. Cast on 12. Dispelled on a lot.
• Iceshard blizzard on harpies. No, on the executioners. Goes off on a 10.
• Midnight wind curse (Damn and blast this wind!) at executioners, also occurs. They
have many cards beside them now and look disgruntled.

• SHOOTAGE!

• Seaguard: 30 shots on 6s to hit on harpies. 4 hits. Wounding on 4. 2 wounds. But
they should be hit on a 7. So it’s only one hit and one wound.
• Tim casts his dice to the floor with a muttered oath.
• The harpies flee not.
• The throwers of bolts throw bolts at… executioners! No wound from the first.
• The other shoots harpies. Short range. The unit, she is dead. Woe and alack.

DE Turn two: In which Tim thinks about charging things.

• Tim thinks about charging things. He does not. He is a weak and spinless git.
• Witch elves on the Owenward flank mosey forth.
1 To quote Walt Simmonson.
• So do the other bigger witch elves.
• And the harpies behind them.
• Executioners reform to face sinister silver helms.
• Hilly witch elves frolic and dance down into the forest.
• It is a 2 forest. It causes Tim to cause fear.

• Magic: 3 dice.

• Double frenzy darkwitch elves are irresistible.

• End of turn.

HE Turn two: in whnich Gentile thinks about charging things.

• Gentile thinks about charging things. He adopts many thoughtful poses and looks
really intelligent. We know his secret.
• Much measuring.
• BIG CHARGES!
• But will he do them?
• Witch elves have four attacks each. “that’s gonna fuck shit up” – Gentile.
• No charges! Weak and cowardly elves! Bah!
• Owen’s khornate side seethes with barely suppressed fury. 2
• BSB wanders sideways and sits beside white loins and swordmasters.
• So does the prince actually.
• Silverhelms rampage o’er the muddy plain.
• There is great finicking of unit angles.

• MAGICS!

• Six dice v 4
• No channels
• -1 to hit and LD is cast on someone, but Greg was being really noisy, and Owen did
not hear it. Tim saves the day by dispelling.
• Midnight wind on witch elves in woods. Goes off.
• Thunderbolt fails
• And now, the elf’s favourite phase (apart from the wine and cheese phase) –

SHOOTING!

• 30 sea guard shots on woody witches. 6 hits. 13 hits. 18 hits. Total.
• But gentile forgot long range. He starts to roll again. 3 hits. 6 hits. 10 hits. For reals
now.
• 4 witchlettes kick a bucket.
• Bolt throwers: 1 more witch dies. And the other bolt thrower… 1 more witch dies.

• NO combnat.

DE 3 In which tim charges things at last:

• No frenzies.
• Harpies into bolt thrower. Hold.
• Witches into sea guard, Stand and Snoot.
• 4 witche elves shotted.
• The harpies do not reach the thrower of bolts. Teeth be gnashed.
• Woody witches get into sea guard and attempt to commit magecide.

2 Not a spelling mistake.

• Big witches move forwards.
• Oxecutioners swiftly reform backwards.

• MAGIC!

• Super frenzy on witch elves is irrefutable.
• Strike simultaneous.
• 4 on mage. 2 wounds.
• 6 others… which means an ungodly number of dice. Ungodly I say.
• 5 poisons. Many wounds. Ie: 11 dead.
• Gentile takes his fiendish revenge: All but two witch elves killed. The seaguards lose
but do not flee.
• They reform. By losing a movement tray.
• Owen distracted by text message from confused associate.

HE 3: Nick strikes back.

• Nick’s watch demands his attention.
• He attends to it.
• A Wild Harley appears.
• This has no impact on the game.
• White Loins and Sword masters wheel to face witchy directions.
• The BS goes along with the Swordy men.
• The silver helms prance about on ponies and close to within insult flinging range of
executioners.
• “Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of elderberries!” – Silverhelm
champion.

• MAGIC!!!

• Midnight wind on engaged witches. Goes off.
• Blizzard on same. Goes off. Dispell attempt faiuls.

• SHOOTERATION PHASE!

• Bolt thrower vs. harpies.
• Three slain most fouly. They pass LD.
• Other bolt thrower shoots executionists.
• But cannot see them.
• So it shoots the back witches.
• One of them is killededed.

• COMBAT!!

• Witch elves attack! Mage is shanked.
• 1 witch elf is killed in return. They flee. Seaguard do not chase.
• Witch elf goes four inches.

DE 4: Tim does stuff.

• Executioners charge.
• Frenzy checks: passed
• Big witches charge the seaguard, who stand and snoot.
• 3 wounds. All saved.
• Clang.
• The one witch elf does not rally. She gains speed.
• Harpies flap around the faces of the sword masters.
• Flap flap flap
• The rear witches shamble forward in a sinister manner singing rude songs.

• MAGIC!!

• ELEVEN DICE!
• Frenzy spell on witchelves in combat. Irrefutable.

• COMBAT!

• McExecutioners Vs. O’Silverhelms
• 4 wounds on executioners, one killed.
• “My armour saves have been pretty good” – Tim
• Exit silver helms
• Executioners reform
• CHALLENGE OF SEAGUARD CHAMPION!
• ACCEPTED BY WITCH CHAMP!
• 2 cauldron wounds.
• CHALLENGE! TERROR CHECK FAIL! PASS ON REROLL! SHOUTY SCRIBE!!
• 3 wounds – champ dies. Both champions die. Mutual destruction.
• Classy.
• Now the units biff one another boisterously.
• Death Hag (cheerful names these dark elves have…) kills four.
• Tim mutters numbers under his breath and determines he has ALL the attacks.
• Seven wounds.
• Now it is Nine more wounds. Or something.
• Mr. Gentile attempts to save things. Nine seagerkins die.
• The lone remaining seagerkin runs like fuck. 9. Chased by 5. Of course, being the
banner, he dies anyway.
• Muttering about the pursue move hitting BSBs or boltists.
• Owen consulted. The BSB is JUST missed. Even with lasers it’s hard to tell.
• The bolt thrower is engaged instead.

HE4: Gentile looks perturbed.

• Owen drops his wallet. Again.
• Various charges occur.
• Harpies charged by prince. Tim forgets he can flee. The TARDIS is invoked, and we
reset.
• Swordmasters charge harpies. Hold.
• BSB charges rear witches
• Prince charges rear witches
• White Loins debate charging. Brows furrow in deep thought.
• They do not charge.
• BSB does not reach. General also does not reach. They really suck. Seriously, they
needed like a 6 and a 5 or something.
• What is this?

• NO magic.

• Shooting.

• Bolts at Witchelves.
• 2 wounds.

• COMBAT!!!!

• Witch elves eat bolt thrower.
• Overrun 3 inches.
• They glare balefully at the table edge, a mere 4 inches hence.
• Harpies…become a red mist.
• Sword masters, showing their mastery of the swordly arts, over run 11 inches. Such
vigour! Tis almost hellish!

DE 5: In which Tim has witches.

• “Charge all the things.” – Noakes.
• Rear witches into sword masters. Executioners into White Loins.
• Excecutioners make it.
• Witch elves cannot fail to make it.
• The mighty witch elves decide to turn around and stop glaring at the table edge.
• They glare at the back end of the BSB’s horse instead.
• Mighty combats are discussed.
• Gentile displays pessimism.
• Cauldron stuff? No?

• MAGIC!

• Tim casts a spell, and it’s NOT irresistible. It is dispelled though. Dunno what it was.
Super frenzy probably.

• WOMBAT PHASE!!?

• Swordmastery combat.
• Swordmastery champion challenges. And tim refuses! Insolent dog!
• Swordmasters die in droves to the value of 12.
• Witchy champ slain.
• 7 witchys deaded.
• Swordmasters bugger off. And are run down.
• The witches end up 1 inch short of the BSB.
• No panic.
• Exedcutioners VS White Loins
• 14 white loins dead
• 8 executioners dead

HE 5: In which characters charge

• The characters charge the witch elves.
• Like they wanted to last turn.

• SHOOTING!

• That lone fleeing witch? She’s been bolted.

• COMBAT!

• White Loins! Not good.
• 2 executionists perish.
• Tim rolls like a fiend.
• All the white loins die.
• Gentile is heard to curse.
• Reform occurs.
• General VS witch elves.
• 5 die (including those killed by the BSB)
• Witch elves deal 6 wounds to Sir General
• He is not slain. He has the armour of awesome.
• 7 wounds on McBSB
• McBSB fails not the armour save at all.
• Witch elves lose by 6. They flee
• No they don’t. they are steadfast.

DE 6: In wich Tim takes his last turn.

• Gentile mentions FAQs.
• We know not of these.
• GW knows not how to write these.
• BIG witches charge the flank of the BSB.
• Executioners charge rear of Herr General Aelf.
• CHALLENGE!!! Does Tim issue them? No. NO he does not.
• Weakness.
• Gentile challenges with Herr General Aelf!
• The Cauldron accepts the shallenge? Eh? Not sure what went down there.

• MAGICS!

• Frenzied witch elves irrefutably.

• Comabt now.

• The HUGE witch unti with the cauldron…
• Hits things.
• 9 wounds.
• Senor BSB takes a single wound.
• He shed a single manly tear.
• 3 lesser witches killed. The horse he does nothing.
• Cauldron takes some wounds?
• Or some sort of Sorceress Succubus takes them?
• Both elves pass their break tests.
• Yon Executioners reform. As do the lesser witch elves.

HE 6: In which the game ends.

• COMBAT!

• Because the bolt thrower has not the target.
• Herr General Aelf challenges, and is refused by the dishonourable dogs!
• Gentile hurls dice about!
• General VS. Executioners – two killed.
• Horse can only go forward. Another point in favour of the car with it’s reverse gear!
• Two witchy lasses lose their lives.
• Executioners attack!
• KILLING BLOW!!!
• HE IS SLAIN!!!
• Senor El BSB:
• Is beaten about the head most grievously by Witch Elves. 8 wounds. He is not killed,
and he does not run either. His arrogance is his armour.