The Gob-Off: Chapter 4 - Part 2

This is the second part of a battle report from the Gob-Off campaign. You can find the first part here.

What had started as a one-sided extermination of the Forest Goblin tribe was in danger of transforming into a full-blown battle, but the soldiers of Baron von Pluffenkopf were made of more serious stuff than the man himself, and they moved swiftly to respond to the newly arrived threat in their flank.

Empire Turn 2

Having just watched the pistoliers and handgunners being trampled by the spider riders, the halberdiers saw their opportunity and charged right at them when they strayed too close.

The Gob-Off: Chapter 4 - Part 1

 As you may recall, some 2 and a half years ago Tim and I were in the throes of a foolish Goblin campaign. Then COVID hit and the best laid plans were torn asunder. Ours were most certainly not the best laid plans, so they stood no chance under the circumstances. Things were laid aside, and the Goblins were left to do what they do best - gather dust (they're pretty good at bickering and running away too, but they can gather dust with the best of them). 

Well, with the games club back up and running properly again, we decided that we had avoided our destinies for long enough. It was time to return to the campaign and determine once and for all, who was the least underwhelming Goblin!

By this point our armies had met twice on the field, and somehow they had drawn both times. Along the way, Mush's Night Goblin contingent had undertaken a side quest to gather reinforcements in their search for victory. However, Skuzzbutt's Goblins had not yet had an opportunity to bolster their own forces. It was time to address this. Skuzzbutt was on his way to try to recruit a tribe of Forest Goblins...

It was a beautiful day in the forest. Bright sunlight filtered through the branches overhead, and the disturbed chirping of little birds was joined by a shrill blast from a steam whistle as the monstrous Marienberg-class Land Ship lumbered slowly through the trees. The machine hissed and groaned as it ran straight over a particularly large spruce, bending and toppling the unfortunate tree before crushing its branches under its steel-reinforced wheels.

The Baron von Pfluffenkopf giggled excitedly as he watched the tree's demise, much as he had every other time he'd witnessed the spectacle. He absent-mindedly stroked the mechanical bird he carried perched on his wrist, despite it obviously having no appreciation of his attentions. Even if it was wound up, the clockwork contraption had no sense of feeling. And the Baron was certainly not to be trusted with a wound-up bird.

Next to him, mounted atop a magnificent clockwork horse, Engineermeister Justus Krieghammer did his best not to watch the Baron's foolish behaviour. Once again he wondered what he was doing on this expedition. He had been perfectly happy to sell the Land Ship to the fabulously wealthy Baron, but he felt no need to be present when the thing was being "tested" on the local Forest Goblin infestation. Unfortunately he had fallen victim to the von Pfluffenkopf's wild enthusiasm, and he had been unable to excuse himself when the expedition had been ready to set off the moment he had delivered the contraption.

Justus winced as the Land Ship ran over yet another large tree, filling the air with splinters, leaves and hissing steam. He had no idea how many trees had already been crushed, but he would have sworn the idiot crew were aiming for as many as possible. It's not that he didn't believe that the vessel could take it - it was just that he'd prefer not to have been around if that proved to be incorrect. He muttered a prayer under his breath that they'd find the Goblins soon and he'd be able to put this business behind him - and some distance between himself and the abused Land Ship...

*****

Skuzzbutt swayed happily as his monstrous hairy spider ambled slowly along the forest path. It was a pleasant day out of the direct sunlight, and he was daydreaming of the many convincing things he was going to say to convince the Forest Goblins of the need to join his war party. He could imagine the dashing figure he would cut at the meeting, his ragged red cape fluttering heroically in the breeze, his barely dented helmet shining weakly in the sunlight...

He was disturbed from his thoughts by the urgent call of his lieutenant, Idjit. "Boss? Boss! You hear dat?"

Blinking for a moment and turning in his saddle, Skuzzbutt was about to abuse the fool for interrupting his idyllic vision when he realised that he could indeed hear something. It sounded like the shrieks and clashes of battle. And something else strange and... clanky-wheezy. His eyes widened when he realised what might be happening. Someone was attacking the tribe he had been intending to recruit. His potential henchmen were in danger!

He booted Fuzzbutt into a hairy gallop, leaving his confused column to try to hurry in his wake.

Chapter 4: (An Unplanned) Flank Attack

The small Forest Goblin tribe finds itself attacked by a much larger force of Empire exterminators. Skuzzbutt's force arrives from a flank chosen when they appear, moving on as reinforcements. Together the Goblin forces are slightly larger than the Empire, but will the Forest Goblins still be there when help arrives?

The Armies

Pfluffenkopf's Goblin Extermination Party

The Gob-Off: Chapter 3 - Part 2

This is the continuation of the report of the 3rd game in our goblin campaign. You can find the first half here.

When we left our heroes, matters were coming to a head in the centre of the field. If you recall, things looked like this...

 3 units locked in combat, including 5 characters, with units all around...

The Gob-Off: Chapter 3 - Part 1

This is the continuation of our all-Goblin 8th edition campaign. You can find the previous segment here, or go back to the start here.

Mush, night goblin shaman extraordinaire and Chosen of Mork (self-proclaimed), stomped along confidently at the head of his army. From behind him came a constant cacophony of snarls and shouts, with the occasional blood-curdling scream followed by the sound of splintering bone. Mush tried not to think about how many squig handlers they had left. It was fewer than they had started with, but they were nearly at their destination. It would be enough.

Movement flitted through the trees beside the path they were following. They were enemy scouts on wolves. There was no point in trying to chase them. They were too quick. And by now the alarm would already have been raised. 

Mush smirked evilly to himself. His foe knew he was coming, but that would not save him.

*****

Skuzzbutt tried to sit calmly atop his spider as his warriors scurried about around him in a frenzy of activity. His legions of spear-armed goblins stood at the ready in relatively tidy ranks, the occasional non-rusty bit of armour shining in the weak sunlight. Chariots rolled into position with remarkably few parts falling off as they went. Atop the towers nearby,

voices could be heard arguing about what they would skewer first with their spear chukkas. Skuzzbutt felt his heart swell with pride at the sight of such martial prowess. 

Nearby, a gaggle of tiny snotlings milled about, crashing into each other haphazardly. They were a motley group, equipped with old rusted saucepans, broken weapons and the odd rock. Skuzzbutt knew that they also figured they were ranking up and preparing for battle, but he also knew that their enthusiasm for outweighed their potential. He tried not to think about it. Hopefully they would trip up the enemy more than his own forces.

Scouts reported that the enemy were bringing a lot more squigs with them this time. Well, Skuzzbutt was ready. Let them come.

Chapter 3: The attack on the Forgotten Fort 

Skuzzbutt and his allies had set up their headquarters in an old, long-abandoned human fort. The walls were mostly rubble, however a few structures had been salvaged in a semi-permanent manner using the questionable wonders of goblin engineering. The mostly intact ancient Sigmarite temple had been defaced and "updated" to reflect the leanings of the new tenants. All in all, the settlement was an indefensible abomination. And now it was under attack.

The Armies
Skuzzbutt's Home Guard

• Skuzzbutt - Goblin Warboss on Gigantic Spider with Gambler's Armour, Sword of Might, Shield
• Idjit - Goblin Big Boss with Battle Standard, Charmed Shield, Sword of Battle, Light Armour
• The Mad Gik - Goblin Shaman (Level 2)
• Razzie - Goblin Big Boss with 2 Hand Weapons, Light Armour
• Groucho's Ladz - 30 Goblins with Spears, Shields, Light Armour, Full Command, 1 Nasty Skulker
• Grumpo's Ladz - 30 Goblins with Spears, Shields, Light Armour, Full Command, 1 Nasty Skulker
• Lumpo's Legion - 30 Goblins with Hand Weapons, Shields, Light Armour, Full Command, 1 Nasty Skulker
• 10 Goblin Wolf Riders with Spears, Shields, Light Armour, Full Command
• 5 Goblin Wolf Riders with Short Bows, Light Armour, Musician
• 5 Goblin Wolf Riders with Short Bows, Light Armour, Musician
• Goblin Wolf Chariot
• Goblin Wolf Chariot
• Snotling Pump Wagon
• Snotling Pump Wagon
• Snotlings (2 Bases)
• Snotlings (2 Bases)
• Spear Chukka
• Spear Chukka

True to Skuzzbutt's plans, I basically stuffed as many spearmen as possible into the army. However, unlike Skuzzbut, I knew that the spears were unlikely to help in the face of lots of squigs. So I added a couple of extra elements that would hopefully give the game some semblance of balance - a pair each of Goblin Chariots and Snotling Pump Wagons. And some Snotling bases to fill out the list a bit. Why not?

Mush's Home Wreckers

• Mush - Night Goblin Great Shaman (Level 3) with Earthing Rod
• Room - Night Goblin Big Boss with Battle Standard, Shrieking Blade, Light Armour
• Max Club - Night Goblin Big Boss with Berserker Sword (Club), Light Armour
• Hoppo - Night Goblin Big Boss on Great Cave Squig with Spear, Light Armour, Shield
• Parry's ladz - Night Goblins with Hand Weapons, Shields, Full Command, Netters, 1 Fanatic
• Stabba's ladz - Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, 1 Fanatic
• Jabba's ladz - Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, 1 Fanatic
• Robbing Hood's Arrer Boyz - Night Goblins with Short Bows, Boss, Musician, 1 Fanatic
• Squig Herd with 12 Squigs, 6 Handlers
• Squig Herd with 12 Squigs, 6 Handlers
• 8 Squig Hoppers
• 8 Squig Hoppers
• 3 Stone Trolls
• Mangler Squig

Tim was relatively restrained in terms of how many Squigs he stuffed into the list. I mean, there are plenty of them there, but he could have had even more. He also continued to keep a lid on the number of Fanatics he was putting in his units. The whole thing was an exercise in restraint, really.

Deployment
Given this was an attacker/defender scenario, we decided that the Skuzzbutt's forces should completely set up first, but would get the first turn automatically. We also decided in the end to ban vanguard moves, as it would have been too easy for me to drag out fanatics before the enemy could even move.

Skuzzbutt's defenders form up around the ruins of the fort as the Mush and Room's attackers emerge from the trees.

The Gob-off Interlude 2 - Mork save us!

The holiday period and Cancon preparations have kind of put our Gob-off on hold, but here is a bit of an explanation of what happened to Mush and Room after our last game...

Mush drifted. He didn't know for how long. He felt nothing. He could see nothing. And yet, somehow, everything felt kind of... green.

The Gob-Off: Chapter 2

This is a continuation of our Goblin Warhammer campaign. You can find the previous part here...

After his plans were stymied by his chance encounter with Skuzzbutt's ladz, Mush was determined to get revenge. But first, he needed to ensure he had the upper hand. The few squigs he had brought previously had nearly single-handedly destroyed Skuzzbutt's forces, so it was clear that he needed more. Da Weird Toof Tribe had a lot more. It was time to go and "borrow" some...

Mush and Room crept along the dark tunnel at the head of the column, trying not to make too much noise. Surprise was important for this mission. If da Weird Toofs knew they were coming, the caves would soon be filled with the gnashing teeth of angry squigs. And that would be bad.

Behind them, the rest of the tribe sneaked as best they could. Rattles and clunks rang out regularly as the tips of their spears scraped the low roof of the tunnel. Worse was the occasional booming yawn from one of the idiot trolls that they had decided to bring along. The trolls were shambling at the rear of the pack, prodded along by the spears of a team of goblins. 

Stupid Trolls. What a bunch of muppets...

A loud crack echoed down the passage as one of the trolls walked face-first into a low part of the ceiling. Mush winced at the noise. He had thought that the resilience of the trolls might be handy in the coming raid, but in hindsight maybe they were not well suited to the task at hand. They were slowing things down, they were hard work, and it seemed likely that they were going to alert the enemy to their approach.


As if to confirm his worst fears, the troll shook its head in surprise and then roared in anger at the rock on front of it. It took a step back and then smashed its face into the rock again, pulverising its own nose and smashing a large chunk from the low-hanging section of ceiling. It dropped to the floor with a crash, the sounds echoing deafeningly down the tunnel. 

Mush groaned and put his face in his hand. This was not starting well. 

*****

Weirdo, heroic leader of da Weird Toof Tribe, wandered through the darkness of the cave looking for handy things to collect. In his hand he carried his custom handbag squig. He loved his handbag. He took it everywhere.

The various huddled groups of night goblins watched him passing nervously, clutching their prized possessions close to them lest they catch Weirdo's eye. They all knew about his "shopping trips," and they all knew that anything he grabbed would never be seen again.

Weirdo muttered to himself and his handbag as he shuffled along, giving occasional exclamations as he found something of interest. A particularly smooth and shiny stone, a broken sword handle, and a slow-moving and unfortunate Snotling were all snatched up and stuffed into the mouth of his handbag. He giggled as he stored each item. He loved collecting. His handbag was never full. No item was too big. Of course, he had never managed to get anything back out again (he had made the mistake of trying early on, and had nearly lost a hand in the process), but he liked knowing it was all in there.

The usual snarling and snapping filled the air as he passed the squig pens. He gave them a wide berth, knowing that anything worth picking up over there had already been eaten. Something caught his toe as he went, and he stooped to brush away the loose dirt. Beneath he found some sort of runic Dwarf talisman. "Ooooh," he squealed as he snatched it up. He could feel the power of the thing humming through his filthy hand. Glancing around to ensure nobody else in the tribe had spotted it, he hastily stuffed it into the mouth of his handbag for safekeeping.

He shuffled on toward the broken gates of the ancient Dwarf hold, he suddenly halted his search. Strange echoes came from the passages beyond the gates. Someone was coming. Weirdo wondered if they had anything worth storing...

Da Rules
This is the sort of game you can only really do as part of a campaign. The armies are intentionally slightly uneven in terms of points (but maybe not strength). The board would be challenging to maneuver on, with some allowances made for things like random moves (things steer a bit as required).

Mush and Room had a clear objective - they needed to kill the enemy general (Weirdo). If they could do this, they could take charge of the tribe and the Squigs would be theirs.

Weirdo's objective was more traditional - try to kill all the enemy. Oh, and don't die. Mainly don't die...

Da Armies

Mush and Room's Sneaky Raiders (1200 points) - Tim

• Mush - Night Goblin Shaman (Level 2) with Talisman of Protection, Vindictive Glare, Itchy Nuisance
• Room - Night Goblin Big Boss with Battle Standard, Light Armour, Shrieking Blade
• Max Club - Night Goblin Big Boss with Berserker Sword/Club, Potion of Foolhardiness
• 24 Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, Netters, 2 Fanatics
• 24 Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, Netters, 1 Fanatic
• 24 Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, Netters, 1 Fanatic
• 24 Night Goblins with Short Bows, Full Command, 1 Fanatic
• 24 Night Goblins with Short Bows, Full Command, 1 Fanatic
• 6 Squig Hoppers



Max Club got a promotion!

• 3 Trolls

This game was going to be a bit unusual. It would be played on the club's cave boards, making movement a bit different. It was also going to put a lot of squigs on one side, which promised to be potentially devastating for the raiders. We decided to give Tim an a bit of a points boost to try to compensate. Hopefully between the slightly larger units, the fanatics and the netters, it would be enough to make for an even fight...

Note that although we promoted Max Club to a Big Boss, we decided that he was a lunatic and not in contention to lead the army. So Mush remained in charge despite his inferior leadership, in direct contravention of the rules. So there!

Da Weird Toof Tribe (1000 points) - Owen

• Weirdo - Night Goblin Warboss with Great Weapon, Talisman of Protection
• Hoppo - Night Goblin Big Boss on Great Cave Squig with Spear
• 25 Night Goblins with Hand Weapons, Shields, Full Command
• 20 Night Goblins with Hand Weapons, Shields, Boss, Musician
• 20 Night Goblins with Short Bows, Boss, Musician
• Squig Herd with 10 Squigs, 5 Handlers
• Squig Herd with 10 Squigs, 5 Handlers
• Squig Herd with 10 Squigs, 5 Handlers
• 8 Squig Hoppers
• Troll
• Troll
• Mangler Squig
• Mangler Squig

Both sides had trolls, but both sides had little to no leadership. Owen stepped in to control of the defenders. I figured that made more sense than me doing it, given this army had nothing to do with Skuzzbutt.

The Gob-off: Interlude

While I busily try to get stuff painted and we work out when the next game in our Goblin campaign (you can find part 1 here) will take place...

Skuzzbutt stalked back and forth in the living room of the broken down building that served as his headquarters. Around him sat his lieutenants, perched on whatever broken furniture they could find. The shaman Ballitch squatted in the corner, gibbering to himself as he often did. Skuzzbutt tried to ignore him and focus on the problem at hand.

"Da problem is da squigs," he told the room yet again. "Dey is dead chompy."

The assembled goblins obligingly muttered their agreement again. Razzie, who was wrapped almost head to toe in dirty rags that served as makeshift bandages, shifted uncomfortably at the memory of just how chompy the squigs had been.

"Wot iz we gonna do?" wailed Idjit, not for the first time. An odd, rather pathetic little goblin, Idjit was not the most clever of the assembled group. Nor was he much of a fighter. But he seemed to be uncommonly lucky, and had by sheer longevity managed to make it into Skuzzbutt's inner council. Not that he added much, now that he was there.

"We needz spears. Long pointy ones!" proclaimed Skuzzbutt. "We need to be able to stick dem squigs before dey get close enough to give us da chomp!"

There was some murmuring of agreement at the obvious wisdom of this plan, and Skuzzbutt was filled with pride at his own cleverness. His military genius was unmatched, and their victory would be assured...

This glorious train of thought was derailed by Idjit, who had a slightly perplexed expression. "Errr, boss..."

Skuzzbutt rounded on him, annoyed at the interruption. "Wot, Idjit?" The already small goblin seemed to sink even further down on his broken stool under the weight of his boss' displeasure. He spoke hesitantly.

"Dem spears, boss. I don't fink it will work."

"Why not? Iz simple fizziks. We reach dem before dey reach us," snapped Skuzzbutt. He shouldn't have been surprised that Idjit would be the one that failed to grasp his plan, but it was nevertheless frustrating. He was always annoying.

"Well yer, boss. Nah boss. Da problem is inishutive, boss," the little goblin whined. "Dey chomp before we can stabs dem."

Skuzzbutt stared at him for a moment. What was he gibbering about? It was obvious he didn't understand the simple plan. The reach of a spear far exceeded the bite of a squig. He glanced about the room, and could see that nobody else had a clue what Idjit was on about either. Ballitch hiccupped, and toppled over in his little corner. Idjit continued to look concerned, but flinched as though he was about to be struck every time Skuzzbutt glared his way. The impudent little runt. There was no point explaining it to him again.

"Shaddup Idjit," he snapped. "I want youz all to go make some long pointy spears so da ladz can practice. Now!"

*****

"Squigs," muttered Mush as he and his brother staggered back toward the camp. "We needz more squigs!"

"Yer," nodded Room agreeably as he limped alongside, using his shattered banner pole as a walking stick. "But where do we find more squigs? Most of 'em got stabbed by dem uvver gobbos."

"Dat's easy," snorted Mush. "We steal 'em from da Weird Toof tribe. Dey gotz heaps of 'em"

"Yer," agreed Room again. "But... dey live deep unnerground innit? How we gonna get 'em?"

Mush looked at him like he was an idiot. "We attack 'em in da cave where dey live, dummy."

Room looked uneasy. "But... itz real dark down der," he whined. "An itz full o squigs!"

Mush turned and whacked his brother over the ear, making him cower and take a couple of steps away to safety. "Dark!" shouted Mush incredulously. "What sort of night goblin iz you? Dark is home!" He gestured around at the surrounding trees, their shadows lengthening as the sun's last light crept away. "Out here under dat 'uge sky! Dis is da scary place!"

Room glanced around, sniffing. "I kinda like it out here," he muttered defensively. 

Mush stared at him for a moment, blinked hard as though he was seeing his brother for the first time, then turned and stormed off on the path toward camp. "Lez go get dem squigs!"


You can find the next part of the campaign here...

The Gob-Off: Chapter 1

In the wild, eastern fringes of the Border Princes, in the shadows of the World's Edge Mountains, something terrible stirred. Rumours spread of a nameless evil, ancient and malevolent. They spoke of the doom of the world...

But we're not here to talk about that. In far less ominous news, the Goblins were restless. The tribes were on the move, and their collision was certain to spark great rivalries of pettiness, spite and unwarranted ambition.

It began with an unfortunate farmer, who had been growing some rather interesting mushrooms in his fields...

The night goblin camp was haphazardly arranged, right across the trail. Well, "camp" was a strong term for it. Really they had all just collapsed in the shade under some nice big trees, desperate to hide from the daylight. They lay about in small clusters, moaning about their eyes and the burning hot sun, hidden though it was behind considerable layers of cloud.

The shaman of the tribe, Mush the Magnificent (the last two words were silent), sat on a rock at what had been the head of the column. He sighed, squinting up at where the sun might be, as though it could somehow tell him the time. This was the third time they had stopped, and he was starting to let his impatience show.

Nearby, his brother Room was still on his feet, although he had dumped most of his gear against another rock. He was huffing and snarling as he did his best to look intimidating. He flexed his scrawny goblin muscles yet again, encouraged by the small gasps and wails that came from others as they lay nearby. Room was intent on winning this show of power against this opponent that had the temerity to stand up to him. Unfortunately, this opponent was in fact his own reflection, showing dimly in the beaten metal shield he himself had recently discarded. Room apparently hadn't noticed he was competing with himself. Mush sighed again. Room was an imbecile.

Room's posturing was in fact partly Mush's fault. It was his idea to give his brother the Shrieking Blade he had found, and Room had immediately noticed the frightening aura he seemed to have around other members of the tribe. Even now, sheathed at his hip, its menacing presence could be felt by those who had collapsed nearby. He was far too dim to realise it was actually the blade that made the others scared of him, and it had done wonders for his self confidence. 

Of course, now Room was convinced that he ruled the tribe, and Mush had to work overtime to ensure that he didn't so something truly stupid like issuing orders. That was why he had also given him the honour of carrying the tribe's battle standard. The flapping banner was just enough distraction that Room would be in little danger of having any ideas of his own. 

With Room under control, Mush basically had the leadership of the tribe to himself. Which was great, if only he could get the sluggards moving again. This was meant to be a raiding party: they were on their way to steal the curious mushrooms that had been spotted growing in a farm nearby. But this raid was taking forever, and Room knew if they had heard about the mushrooms, others might have as well. They couldn't afford to be this slow.

He sighed yet again. He admitted to himself that for all that he was the brains of the operation, he had trouble whipping the troops into line. Room's aura of intimidation did have its uses.

"Room, we needz ta moov," he suggested to his brother. "Better show 'em who's boss eh?"

Room gave an unleaderlike squeal of excitement at this invitation to show his authority, and forgot for the moment about besting himself in a flex-off. Snatching up his banner, he began shouting at those nearby, who howled and scrambled to their feet, desperate to stay away from his inexplicably scary person.

Mush smirked as he watched his plans in action. With his level of cunning, nothing could stop them.

***

The goblin column marched quickly through the trees, the clatter of ramshackle armour and weaponry occasionally accompanied by a snarl from one of the wolves loping alongside. Anyone familiar with the chaos of a goblin advance would have been astonished by the discipline being displayed; these goblins almost behaved like proper, obedient soldiers. It was most unnatural.

At the head of the main column was their proud leader, Skuzzbutt. He sat atop his huge, hairy spider Fuzzbutt as it scuttled along the path. He did not steer; he did not need to. And he didn't know how. But that didn't matter, because he and Fuzzbutt were one, and they moved with one mind (most of the time). 

Skuzzbutt's troops were a model of goblin military prowess. He had spent many moons watching the humans and stunties at work, and he knew what could be a achieved with practice, equipment and the careful feeding of dissenters to a very large and always-hungry spider. He knew his army was unmatched among goblin-kind. 

And now they were on a mission to teach some manners to the uppity human farmer that lived in the foothills. The fool had recruited help from the nearby village and attacked Skuzzbutt's wolf riders as they were helping themselves to his sheep. Well, he would learn the error of his ways. And then the villagers would pay too. They had no idea who they were messing with, and their pitiful defences would offer little protection against Skuzzbutt's noble goblin legions. They would all pay, and Skuzzbutt's fame would grow, inviting more to join his cause. It was inevitable. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

The Gob-Off

An all-goblin campaign in Warhammer Fantasy 8th edition (with selected tweaks).

Chapter 1: The Fungus Farmer

Right, so Tim and I have been talking about doing an all-goblin campaign for a while, and we had the opportunity to set it all in motion on the weekend. I won't pretend it was really carefully planned, but the intent is to chain together a series of games with a narrative theme, so we can show the world who is the supreme goblin, and all that guff. We deliberately started with a very small game and not a lot of special toys, so show that these are petty, up-and-coming rivals rather than proper, established warbosses. We also capped magic items at 25 points.

Skuzzbutt's Goblin Legion

• Skuzzbutt - Goblin Warboss on Gigantic Spider with Sword of Might, Gambler's Armour, Shield
• Ballitch - Goblin Shaman (Level 1) with Itchy Nuisance
• Razzie - Goblin Big Boss with Additional Hand Weapon
• 20 Goblins with Light Armour, Shields, Full Command, 1 Nasty Skulker
• 20 Goblins with Light Armour, Shields, Full Command, 1 Nasty Skulker
• 10 Goblin Wolf Riders with Light Armour, Shields, Spears, Full Command
• 5 Goblin Wolf Riders with Light Armour, Short Bows, Musician
• 5 Goblin Wolf Riders with Light Armour, Short Bows, Musician

Behold, my mighty goblin legion. Honestly this was a "what does a goblin army look like with no big toys, artillery, or night goblins" type of effort. And yes, there is a naked hero in there. He filled up the points nicely... Also you can see how lowly my shaman is by the fact that he's represented by a basically naked war machine crewman. I really need a better painted common goblin shaman...

Mush and Room's Musty Horde

• Mush - Night Goblin Shaman (Level 2) with Talisman of Protection, Itchy Nuisance, Sneaky Stabbing
• Room - Night Goblin Big Boss with Battle Standard, Shrieking Blade, Light Armour, Shield
• Max Club's Jabbas - 20 Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, 1 Fanatic
• Clasha's Stickas - 20 Night Goblins with Spears, Shields, Full Command, 1 Fanatic
• Jabba's Stabbas - 22 Night Goblins with Shields, Full Command, Netters
• Shifty's Arrers - 20 Night Goblins with Short Bows, Full Command
• Mad Bounders - 10 Squig Hoppers

Tim is a brave man. He decided he would go all night goblins, and then decided to have twin heroes leading the army, before giving the BSB to the fighter so the shaman could be in charge. That gives his general a leadership of 5. That is heroic. Granted, he gets a re-roll. But my leadership of 8 (without a re-roll) was looking pretty good...

So there you have it. Can a few units of wolf riders negate the threat of a couple of fanatics? Let's find out.

Deployment

We played on a 4x4' field given the tiny size of the armies. This battle was for control of the farm. Whoever held it at the end of the 6th turn would be the victor!

The Shadows Return: Game 12

Norbert the Necromancer stood beside Korgorax, the Scourge of Albion and his new lord and master. The Wight Lord stood silently beneath the cover of the trees, looking out onto the valley. The area was lush and green, though slightly damp and boggy (so it was still relatively firm by Albion standards).  And the valley was a bustling hive of activity as the Lizardman army scrambled to recover from a recent battle. It was apparent that they had come off second-best, however the odd trophy that had been retrieved was enough to show who they had been fighting.

“It seems these lizards have also been fighting the Chaos worshippers,” Norbert said quietly.

Korgorax gave no indication that he had heard, continuing to stare out across the field as though he was looking for something in particular.

“My lord, there is no particular reason for us to fight these creatures,” suggested Norbert. “If they are fighting our rivals, perhaps it is better if we leave them to it and go around. We are lucky to have avoided being seen so far.”

Korgorax stiffened suddenly and gave an angry hiss as a figure moved into sight in the valley. This figure was a strange inclusion in the Lizardman force, as he was clearly human and dressed in the primitive garb of a Truthsayer. The fires in Korgorax’s eyes blazed as he stared at the human and memories flooded his mind of battles fought centuries before – battles against armies of men and giants, and invariably those armies had been led by the magic of the Truthsayers. His skeletal hands clenched and opened involuntarily as he imagined closing them about the throat of the hated druid.

The change in his demeanour was apparent to Norbert. Something had changed. “My lord…” he began, but was interrupted as the Wight Lord’s thoughts suddenly drowned out his own:

We fight now. Prepare the legions.

The Wight turned and stalked away hurriedly, followed by his pet Necromancer.

It was only once they were clearly gone that the Chameleon Skinks that had been all around them began to move, hurrying toward the Lizardman army to warn them of the enemy’s presence.

Our next battle takes place as Nick's Lizardmen are regrouping after their failed ambush upon Aaron's Chaos Warriors. Korgorax's Undead are now on the mainland and are making their way north. The Lizardmen simply got in the way. The scenario was a simple pitched battle.

Game 12: Ancient Scores to Settle

The armies line up with the Dire Wolves using vanguard on the flank.

The Shadows Return: Game 11

The perpetual game of catch-up continues. In this encounter, the main Empire force has finally made it onto the Albion mainland and is marching north from a far more southerly landing point than they had originally intended. Unfortunately they hit the Dark Elves who were on their way south...

Stefan the Black stared hard through the misty rain at the ground below. He shook his head to get the water out of his eyes, but it did little good; within moments it was as though he was blinking through tears again. He was soaked, his armour was soaked, and his mount, Nightwing, was also soaked. The Griffon didn't seem very happy, either. He was more irritable than usual and fought his rider's commands. Stefan didn't know if Nightwing was responding to his own foul mood, or was just as sick of being in the rain as he was. As they all were, really. 

This whole expedition had been an exercise in misery. Albion was a dreadful place. It was in the middle of nowhere, cursed with the most unrelentingly lousy weather Stefan had ever encountered. And it was seemingly crawling with enemies.

Stefan recognized the shrieking of harpies long before he could make out their dark shapes through the mists. When he did finally see them, he could see them heading directly for him. Like they had known where he was long before he could have spotted them. This was impossible, of course. A harpy’s eyesight was really not much better than his own, and the rain would have been just as impenetrable for Nightwing's keen vision. More than likely the miserable creatures were attracted by his mood, thought Stefan.

It was only as he banked away from the approaching harpies that he noticed the dark shapes of the enemy columns advancing across the muddy fields below.

The Shadows Return: Game 10

And now for something a little different, we found an excuse to use one of the original scenarios from the Dark Shadows campaign book. It was another Ambush using the rules from the 6th edition rulebook (yes I know, this should be ringing alarm bells already given our previous ambush attempts). The difference here was that the defending army is trying to force its way through the narrow passage past the mountains to the north of the island, and they are set upon by a pack of monsters. 

We had great fun digging through my pile of available monsters the evening before, picking things that seemed reasonable from the Storm of Magic book and giving them various upgrades. We tried not to take anything that seemed unreasonably powerful, and ended up with something like the following:

• Giant
• Giant
• Giant
• Griffon (with ASF and Devastating Charge)
• Wyvern (with Killing Blow)
• Wyvern (with Tail Attack)
• Wyvern (with Impact Hits)
• Young Dragon
• Arachnarok
• Pack of 3 Sabretusks
• Pack of 3 Sabretusks
• Troll

Somehow we got carried away explaining why such an eclectic band of monsters would be banded together in this way, and it seems that Owen took them to heart as he wrote up the account that follows:

Game 10: The Giants' Causeway

It was mid afternoon when Edna the troll saw him. The most handsome, most ripped, most utterly adorable thing she’d ever seen. He was dressed in ragged trousers, and was striding across the stony ground effortlessly carrying a great ogham stone above his head, following the big shiny red men with a look of intense concentration. Just one look was all it took, and Edna was in love, but how could she make this handsome and virile adonis notice her? She looked about her blankly, her gaze falling on a crumbling stone idol, which lay fallen on the ground. Picking this up and raising it above her head in imitation of her beloved, she set out after him, drooling quietly, the world around her much fuzzier and pinker than usual.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? Edna follows her dreamboat into battle.

The Shadows Return: Game 9

The campaign is continuing, and I am gradually falling further behind in my reporting. In an effort to speed things up a little, I am going to lean more heavily on Owen's note-taking for Game 9. Instead of writing the whole thing up narrative-style and then including his notes at the bottom, I am going to build the report around his notes and then including my own stuff in the captions. I'll also clarify some stuff in italics.

Consider this a warning, I guess...

The marshes were eerily quiet as Mana-mana crept through the slimy undergrowth to Qur'myt's position under a drooping swamp tree. He stopped next to the Slann's palanquin and waited to be acknowledged. Eventually the Skink perched upon the arm of the palanquin turned to looked at him and nodded.

"All forces are in position, Lord Qur'myt," he reported. He paused a moment, then went on in a rush, "We are not ready for this engagement, Lord Qur'myt. We have only just regathered after our encounter with the Druchii. We need more..."

He was cut off abruptly by the Slann's voice booming in his mind, DO YOU DOUBT MY JUDGEMENT, YOUNG PRIEST?

"No my lord, but perhaps we need more..."

THAT CERTAINLY SOUNDS LIKE DOUBT. DO NOT FORGET WHO IS IN CHARGE OF THIS HUNTING PACK. GO BACK TO YOUR POSITION AND AWAIT MY SIGNAL.

Mana-mana scurried off quickly. He cursed himself for his foolishness. Qur'myt was a mighty Slann Priest, thousands of years old and the veteran of countless battles. He was fortunate to have received such a light reprimand for his temerity.

As he passed Ivyl-Knivyl however, his doubts redoubled. The fearless Chieftain was wrapped head-to-toe in bandages a he sought to recover from the battering he so recently received. A lesser Skink would have perished, but Ivyl-Knivyl was no lesser Skink. Nevertheless he swayed atop the back of his new Stegadon mount like a little drunken mummy.

Mana-mana knew in his heart - they were not ready for this ambush.

*****

Char'Drex stomped through the swamps at the head of the column. Each step of his blisteringly hot daemonic hooves caused the marsh water around him to boil and hiss. He paid little attention to picking the safest path. He had no fear of a mis-step. And if those behind him were unable to follow where he led... well they were not worthy to follow him, were they?

The sound of beating wings approaching caused the daemon prince to look up overhead. A Manticore swooped down and landed on some of the marginally firmer ground nearby. Peter, the army's sorcerer, sat upon the back of the beast. "Lord Char'Drex, I believe we are about to be ambushed. Lizard creatures have surrounded our column."

The daemon prince snorted in amusement. "Do they mean to attack us, or do we need to go and look for them?"

"I believe their attack is imminent, my lord."

Char'Drex smiled. "Good!"

Right then, on we go!

The Shadows Return: The Blessing of Lord Scroltch

A contribution from Owen, In which Lord Scroltch the Deliriously Pustulent is blessed by Papa Nurgle for his many services and becomes an even more diseased deamonic octopus than ever.

Lord Scroltch the Deliriously Pustulent was sitting in the mud, making happy little bubbling

noises to himself as he watched the happy little bubbles rise to the surface and burst, releasing a pleasingly horrible stench into the air when it happened. First there was blast of flatulent trumpets, then the dull grey fog of Albion rolled back to reveal a beam of nauseating greenish light, which shone down from on high. Down this beam of light descended a great and scabrous mass of heaving, rancid flesh, supported upon a palanquin born aloft by a great and scabrous mass of heaving, rancid nurglings. With a squelch, the wetness and vileness of which defied description, and which unleashed a stench beyond the comprehension of mortal men from the swamps of eternal stench, this great palanquin came to rest before Lord Scrolth, who waggled his tentacles happily and blew squelchy burps of joy towards it. The great and festering mound of flesh seethed and rippled for some time making dramatic gestures accompanied by a symphony of odd plops, glops, squeaks and squelches. Lord Scroltch looked on in awe.

It was at about this time that Papa Nurgle realized he had landed facing the wrong way. He proceeded to chasten his mound of gibbering, giggling nurglings, which obliged him by turning around and actually facing his most pustulent follower.