#3: Tiny Hammer Game 1 - Tragic Happenings of the Elven Variety

Well, my dear reader, game one of the tournament was finally upon me. 

The round one draw was random and I ended up playing a fellow using an Elves of the End Times list, rolling all three books into one big, terrifying mess. Elves are better at a lot of things than me; magic, shooting, wearing armour (or clothes at all for that matter), but I had two aspects of the game that the Beastmen had the upper hand. Soaking up casualties and not running away thanks to Mark of Slannesh or immune to psych almost army-wide. The scenario dictated that each player could place an objective marker in his deployment zone, and whoever controlled more than his enemy at the end of the game gained an extra 150 Victory Points.

From left to right, my opponent deployed an eagle claw bolt thrower guarded by five Cold One Knights. Beside them, 16 glade guard with (surprise...) true flight arrows were accompanied by a level one Death Spellsinger with a scroll. It should be said here that my opponent and I both forgot he even had a scroll, and it never came into play. The black unit in the centre was 15 Executioners, and on the right flank, five warlocks prepared to unleash some magical carnage. The executioners had me concerned, but hilariously enough, his warlocks would get no ward save against my conveniently marked units! His wizard on the hill rolled up spirit leech, which didn't worry me too much. Its short range combined with his alternative casters in the warlocks meant that he would not be doing any heavy lifting in the magic phase. His objective marker can just be seen beside his bolt thrower in the picture; an objective I was confident in seizing out of his delicate, lifeless little hands.

I discovered about now that I had a distinct advantage in the deployment phase. Most of my opponents were finished deploying long before I had placed the last of my cheap, expendable units (and if there is one thing Beastmen do incredibly well, it's cheap, expendable units). My deployment was what you might call a "classic" battle line, with my main block in the centre, trolls either side to mitigate the effects of stupidity, and my fastest elements on my flanks. Mr Sluggington rolled up Fate of Bjuna and Spirit Leech. Not my favourite spells, but oh well. My objective was tucked behind the hill on my left, safely out of sight of his rather concerning fire base on the hill.  His curse did very little, killing three glade guard and a single executioner. 

I won first turn, and boy, did my army seize the chance to impress. My right-hand trolls got distracted by a particularly interesting beetle, and stumbled forward a few inches. The rest of my force pushed forward to close the distance quickly, with the exception of my far right Razorgor, who decided the best use of his fur-covered butt was to be parked on top of my objective in case things went south. My hounds, with the help of their vanguard move, drove forward to redirect his executioners and warlocks, knowing full well that they would die a horrible death. My magic phase was brutal. And I mean, "game changing" brutal.

Thanks to Reign of Chaos, seven plague bearers burst into reality, managing to squeeze into a vacant lot behind the bolt thrower, throwing my opponents fire base into disarray. To make things worse, Slugtongue cast Summon Infernal Legions to materialise a Burning Chariot of Tzeentch staring directly at his Executioners. Slugtongue had overextended himself, though, forgetting the spell, losing a wizard level, and draining the power pool dry. The burning chariot overshot it's mark, only toasting 4 executioners, and he easily passed his panic check. 

With my opening gambit revealed, my opponent reacted quickly and powerfully. His executioners slaughtered the hounds in a blink, while his Cold One Knights banished the Burning Chariot back into the veil with devastating ease, overrunning into three unsuspecting trolls. The Doomfires unleashed a doombolt at my Gors, killing three and detonating a warlock with the magical backlash. The Glade Guard, desperate to protect their objective, reformed and unleashed a volley into the newly appeared Plaguebearers, only killing two.

Turn two began with a cheeky flank charge on his warlocks with my hounds, hoping to get lucky and break them, or at the very least hold them in place for someone else to do the job. Yes, I'm looking at you, dopey trolls... The Plaguebearers made the obvious charge, barreling into his bolt thrower, only managing to kill one of the crew, who held their nerve. My magic was non-existent after last turn's lightshow, both Death spells being stopped or failing to reach casting value.

My hounds did no damage, and took a wound for their troubles, ending in a draw. The Knights slew a troll and put two wounds on another. In return, the trolls power-barfed two knights to death, before deciding that it was not worth their time and running. Deciding against chasing them down, the Knights turned to face my Gors.

With my Plaguebearers being locked in combat, the Glade guard looked elsewhere for a viable target, choosing the slightly aggressive Razorgor racing up the hill toward them. Spirit Leech stripped a wound off him, and for all their efforts, the elf archers could only take one more. The big, angry werewolf was severely wounded but not dead, and certainly not in the mood to use his words to resolve their differences. Then it happened; that pivotal moment in the game where events swung one way and swung hard. My Plaguebearers killed the last crewman of the bolt thrower, removing it as a long ranged threat in the game. To make things worse, dear reader, the Glade Guard, along with the Spellsinger General, saw what bloody fate had befallen their friend, soiled their dresses and fled the table. In one swift blow, I had wiped out my opponent's ranged support, removed his general, weakened his magic phase and I now had a unit parked securely on his objective with no one to challenge them. And to top it off, elsewhere on the battlefield, his Knights and Executioners charged into my Gors, and failed to break me. That's not to say he didn't kill a lot (because he killed a LOT!) but I was steadfast, and despite my unit champion getting himself killed in a challenge, there was still enough tenacity in the unit to hold things together!

To close the game out, my chariot managed to get a sneaky charge around the hill into the flank of of his preoccupied Knights, smashing them to oblivion. The executioners died to a man, but not before the champion introduced poor Slugtongue to a lifestyle choice called "not being alive anymore". My right unit of trolls, having spent the entirety of the game laughing at butterflies, where brought back to reality when they received a charge from crazy half-naked horsemen with self control issues. A few warlocks were punched from their saddles, but in the end, being without the recently-made-headless Slugtongue nearby for emotional support, leadership three let them down and they were run down. 

With the battlefield all but cleared, the last few turns were spent trying to catch a single, elusive warlock, who raced around the battlefield out of charge arcs of my limited surviving units, blasting my Gors with doombolt. Without magic defence, I could do little to stop him, and he killed my Gors to the man, claiming a huge chunk of victory points in the dying moments of the game. However, I walked away with a 14-6 win, my Beastmen having slaughtered their way through the elven host (with a little help from Nurgle) and holding both objectives, which pushed me up to table three. I was already noticing some significant weaknesses in my list, primarily Stupidity, but I was happy with my first game and had been pushed up to Table three for the first ranked match of the day. Onwards and upwards, my unruly rabble of forest critters!

Keep checking in for the next three games! I would love to hear if you like this format of battle reports, or if I can improve them in any way for you, the reader. Let me know at www.facebook.com/theruneaxewargaming 

Thanks for reading,

Gabriel