Campaign boarding actions continue, these two weeks versus Enrico, Dave, and Michael. My Ynnari force expanded from last week, grabbing more of the Generator Cluster on the space hulk. The race is on to grab the last portions before it crashes into the planet and spills out into a broader territories game (we think that’s the plan of the amazing Justin and Sean who are running the show).
Also a note: normally Walkers are not allowed in Boarding Actions, but our campaign rules included them to allow people who wanted the icon boarding action Dreadnaught crashing through bulkheads to be able to run them. My first of these three games (my one loss so far in the campaign) I decided to field a Wraithlord just to see. And I saw that while it was funny, I vastly preferred more troops for objective-seeking.
Anyhow, without further ado the write-ups of my latest games. Huge thanks to my opponents Enrico, Dave, and Michael (in order) as each of these were super-enjoyable challenges.
Game Three: Cramped Spaces
“Cut. Maim. Tear.” Aleksandr whispered to himself over and over as his heavy greaves thudded across the decking making the distinct “clunk” of the auto-maglocks at work. “Maim. Tear. Cut.” His helmet’s auto-senses included the dim outlines of enemy targets at the far end of long access halls. The optic tech was old and battered, but it worked enough to identify shapes. Something in Aleksandr’s mind thought “space elves”, but he only continued muttering… “Tear. Maim. Cut.”
Two groups of his brethren World Eaters, along with Chaos Spawn, were cutting their way through the bulkheads in two parallel paths. A group of lithe elves attempted to hold a door shut to delay them, only to have it torn off its hinges by a squad sergeant’s empty, blood-stained hands. Even though the elves’ rapid strikes managed to fell the first warrior through the door, the raw force of the following marines dismembered them. Little room to dodge in such close confines, which left the elves at a disadvantage.
“Cut. Maim. Tear.” Aleksandr uttered again. He and his squad raced forward along the junction lines, heedless of a few bolts of fire that streaked from the darkness ahead. Suddenly, the opening at the far end of an access junction was filled by an enormous form. The elves had brought some manner of dreadnaught of their own onto the ship. It was stooped over and moved slowly, but the two massive laser cannons it wielded began sending crackling beams of illuminating energy at his squad, cooking two members of the other squad into nothing more than ashes. “Maim! Tear! Cut!” he roared, and thumbed the control for his chainaxe as he rushed forward. For all the menace of the crackling power fists of the elf dreadnaught, in that constrained space it never got a chance to swing them. Aleksandr’s axe tore open slice after slice of whatever material it was made of, which along with the blows of his mates dispatched it in short order. Panting with the exertion, he gasped “Tear… Maim… Cut…”
One of the elf witches appeared from a corridor, surrounded by shrouded elves with long laser rifles. Aleksandr could tell it was a witch from the sudden crackle feeling of psychic energy, which enraged him further. “Cut! Maim! Tear!” he bellowed. His onrushing squad would be at the witch in moments, and it must have started the abomination because the witch drew an enormous burst of power and directed it into his squad. Two of Aleksandr’s mates stumbled and fell, their vital signs on his display dropping to flatline. “Maim! Tear! Cut!” he shrieked. But the power the witch discharged was evidently rushed or too much for its own resilience, because with an echoing wet “bampf” the vile creature’s head exploded from its own energy. The explosion was so powerful that the eyes burst out of four of the five shrouded warriors right behind him, their light forms crumpling down onto each other. Even the remaining one’s mono-molecular tripwire couldn’t save him from Aleksandr’s charge and swinging chainaxe. With a single swipe and a gravely shout of “Tear! Cut! Maim!” the last of the elves were dead. This section of the ship was cleared.
Aleksandr toggled his sensor suite to a wider sweep. There had to be more enemies around. “Cut. Tear. Maim.” echoed in his vox as he stalked deeper into the halls of the hulk.
Game Four: Elf in the Machine
Landsyrr followed his Klaivex through the hallways, keen to the sound of grating machinery coming from all sides. The Space Hulk was simply deafening to his ears, but then much of the the sounds of his life in the past three hundred years had been the silence of the Shrine of the Coiled Blade. While some Incubi shrines were rife with competition, with thronging supplicants, or with the screams of sacrifice, theirs had been one of martial training in near silence–only the occasional bargaining with an Archon to use their services saw words echoing the halls. At least until the Visarch–servant of Yvraine–took over, and devoted the shrine to the cause of the Ynnari.
Since then, Landsyrr and the others in his shrine had followed Yvraine, including this newest endeavor to extract some sort of gain from scourging foes from the decks of this massive Space Hulk. Landsyrr was impressed by her. Such a mystery. So many things at once. Both a herald of death incarnate, striking down foes with her mind or her rainbow-hued power blade. And yet she had that side of the Asuryani kin with odd tenderness at moments, something that was somehow alien to Landsyrr. He saw her once bend down over a fallen Wych gladiatrix who had foolheartedly tried to hold a bulkhead door shut from a raging Space Marine, and issue the softest of kisses on the fallen warrior’s forehead before gently closing her eyes. Landsyrr wondered yet again why he was following this woman in this mad attempt to save their race.
Perhaps it was the chance to strike down so many foes. Their current engagement was against a group of Necrons–such ancient foes. The Space Hulk carried some sort of prize worth fighting for, as all sorts of races found themselves vying for control of the damnable things. Landsyrr’s squad sighted a strange floating Necron surrounded by their strange scarab servitors and charged into their midst. The Necron seemed to be some manner of scientist, as it cocked its head to examine them as a phase shift field went off, protecting him from the first of their strikes.
With a sound like metal scraping across the deck, the thing spoke. “You are in error, no? Records show your heraldry–sub-category reference: “shrine”–to be incongruous to that of the others with you. Yes?” Even as their slicing blades cut through the remaining scarabs and severed the thing’s limbs, it seemed more invested in asking its question than defending itself. After a couple more blows, the light from the Necron’s single cyclopean eye grew suddenly dull.
Landsyrr watched as Yvraine stalked the deck of the ship past their unit. Her blade nearly sang with the speed of cuts it made through the foes. At one point she deftly sliced the hinges on a portal, and the cut down each of the Necron warrior caste enemies that had been waiting behind it.
Yet in his mind, Landsyrr kept again and again turning the phrase that the monocular Necron leader had uttered. These Ynnari, the bulk of them Craftworlders… the Incubi, the Wyches, and the other denizens of the Commorragh were not so much like them. This alien machine could see the categorical difference. Why could Landsyrr and the other Incubi not see that. What was it about Yvraine that made her different? Made her the bridge? Was it simply Vect’s endorsement?
Regardless, there were more machines to dispatch. So dispatch they did.
Game Five: Hero in the Hallways
Narunn the Lucky, Einhyr Champion, had the knack for salvage. The Space Hulk “Dolorous Tidings” was his target, and as his team breached into the hallways Narunn could literally smell the promise of materials to be extracted and absconded-with amidst the various forces vying for control of the massive conglomeration of ships. After moving through a few decks, his vox buzzed from his team member carrying the auspex scanner. “Closest sentient macrofauna are on this deck, moving toward us… by their weapons and uniform energy frequencies they are.. elves.” Naurnn could hear the audible spit noise the operator made after muttering that final word.
While Narunn ordered close drill and careful advances, the elves came pouring out of the dimly lit hallways and right into the midst of his Hearthguard forces. While their armor turned aside much of the elves’ precision shooting and vicious melee attacks, slowly casualties started to accumulate. Strange acrobatic elf warriors with whirling blades danced along their lines, while a wave of blue-armored warriors poured shuriken fire into the midst of them. Each time the warriors were eventually repulsed, but eventually only a single Hearthguard remained in the “Aurachs” squad that was sweeping the far side of the ruins, and only Narunn remained on the near side.
Striding forth from amidst the multitudes of elven warriors came a clear leader–a woman in what elves must count as fancy clothing, bearing a sword that shimmered with the colors of the rainbow. She started with a psychic assault which felt like voices shouting at top volume in his head. Lightning-fast she darted forward and followed the disorienting psychic manifestation with a flurry of rainbow slices. While one scored a hit slicing his leg, Narunn’s armor power field repelled the remainder. The elf-queen seemed taken aback for a moment, having thought her blade would surely fell him. “We’re made of stronger stuff than that, elf harlot” thought Narunn as he swung his powered hammer forward. It connected with her midsection, sending her sprawling. She barely survived it, but it was clear that something broke inside her as she began coughing up blood. She shouted something in her foul tongue–which was echoed by a hiss from her strange cat-like companion–and then retreated into the darkness. “Lick your wounds or succumb to them in the dark” Narunn cursed as she left.
Narunn rampaged forward into the elf forces, who were left reeling with the complete and sudden dispatching of their leader–apparently she was revered amongst her people. Finishing off one squad of elf warriors with his hammer, and ending the stragglers of another with his pistol, Narunn found a central maintenance hatch. His own scanner did a quick translation of the runes–and he knew that good salvage was simply a deck down. He keyed in the location on his transponder to summon labor robots for the extraction to his own ship. The elves were swarming everywhere on this deck, clearly controlling the space. But he had bought enough time to grab some goods and escape. Sad to lose warriors, doubly-so to flower-pickin’ elves. But at least he could eke out some salvage.
The elves mounted one last attack on his position, led by yet another psychic threat–a conclave of their seers. Their blades and psychic assault was just not enough to stop him, and he struck them down as easily as he did their leader. It seemed their more numerous remaining warriors were fine simply controlling the entire deck beyond his locale, giving Narunn a wide berth.
After a tense 35 minutes expecting further attacks–and some holes cut in an exterior bulkhead–Narunn was finally back on his own ship, reviewing what he had acquired in the costly raid. Three large matching crates of goods. Opening them he found deeply disappointing contents. A shipment of uniform patches and fancy berets for some long-lost human guardsman regiment. “Damnation” he swore. He made a mental note to himself, a grudge of sorts. If the rainbow-sword elf-queen survived, and he meet her or her red-uniformed elf ilk again, he would spare nothing to repay this slight in full to her ten-fold.
Lots of painting, not in terms of models but certainly in surface area! I finished a Wraithlord which I was quite proud of.
Which led me to break out and finish up a Wraithknight as well–the largest of the plastic kits for the Aledari. I’m really pleased with the pilot screen and the gem on it.
More painting to go, as we next land on the planet in the campaign (as lots of people are playing so spaces on the crashing hulk were captured fast–a great problem to have!).
Army Painted Totals
40k Aeldari (Primarily Drukhari but also Asuryani, Ynnari, and Harlequins): 198 PL / 3,935 points
Aeronautica Imperialis Aeldari: 373 points
Battletech Clan Jade Falcon: Timber Wolf, Mongrel, Adder, Dire Wolf, Elementals (x1)