Carnage by the Woodland - by Maxime Farley

Carnage by the Woodland

Today shall be a fine day to offer sacrifices to the Gods, thought Arch-Magus Rajaxx, as he looked about the field before him.

Behind him stood the finest Tzeentchian warriors he could manage to find in such short notice. It was imperative those heathens never discovered of what was going on in the groove nearby.

Next to him lay the Branchwraith, lured to work for him, to his death, if necessary, by the Dark Arts his patron gifted him. His Elf friends weren’t so easily convinced to fight their own kind, be they of noble origins or not, but his magic had yet to fail him.

Scrying the advance of the enemy, Rajaxx realized they had recruited aid in their way here. Peasants, all of them. They might still posed a threat. He should especially consider the Pegasus’s and the knights mounting them.

If I had enough time, I’d summon a Dragon of Chaos and see them flee like the pest they represent.

He, however, was here to buy time for his fellow Magi, and would succeed or die trying.

He started ordering people around, sending him warriors here and there, with support from the Branchwraith and his fellow nymphs, and the Elf archery to aid the mounted Knights of Pestilence. A ‘kind’ gift of Zalgo, the regional Lord of Pestilence. Nuisances, especially to the nose, but they had their use.

Sighting a Noble with his detachment of Dragon Knights, Rajaxx decided he would involve himself more personally into the matter, and bid a guard of 12 Warriors to his side. They would make short work of most physical threats, the Magi overcoming any and all magic flung at them.

Elves had an unnerving tendency towards sending Archmages whenever they found the occasion to do so.

…

The sounds of war raged around him, blood swirling in a tempest of blades and lances. The knights proved more than resilient, and Rajaxx decided to interfere. Uttering long-forgotten curses and prayers to the darkest of gods, he bestowed the great Gifts of the Gods upon a Warrior lying next to him. The Exalted Champion of Chaos distracted the Noble long enough for his entourage to be slain, and in a vain attempt to save his life, the remaining Elf turned his mount and ran. Until, that is, the ground fell before him, twisting, maddening flames overcoming him and his ride. He was a mere puddle of messy gore when Rajaxx walked past him with what was left of his guard.

To his left, he faintly realized the Nymphs had all but been butchered, dying to the last in a futile attempt to please their new lord. Concerned about the White Lions chariot running towards them, Rajaxx saw the rain of death at about the same time the elves did. The chariot was swarm with a multitude of magical Elfic arrows, and as they ripped through wood and flesh alike, Rajaxx knew no worry would come from them.

On the far side of the battlefield, the Pestilent Knights met the Knights of the Realm into combat. All the flashy clothes they wore could not be compared to the age old armors of Chaos the undying fiends wore. The sparkling new lances they brought crashing into the deathless warriors were comparable to wooden training swords next to the ensorcelled weapons their opponents flung at them.

Once side had finesse, training and expertly laid tactics, the Bretonnian ‘Lance’.

The other had strength, experience and sheer brutality on their side.

As the bringers of death met the Lance in charge, a litteral barrage of blistering gore followed them. As they lost one man, they butchered the entire knight regiment, and properly followed their trail to meet a group of bowmen into battle. Battle? Carnage. If knights could barely hold them, what hope might a group of barely armed peasants have? They must have realized so, as they fled before the mowing death of Grand-Father Nurgle.

…

Bringing himself out of his visions of the battlefield, Rajaxx barely realized his guards had trampled the enemy Archmage and his own guards. No survivors, no quarters, no pity.

Unopposed, Rajaxx started to summon the Winds of Magic like never before, blasting apart Rifts of pure Chaos under the foots of the remaining enemies, sending waves after waves of fiery death upon unsuspecting victims.

Using both treachery and raw Chaotic firepower, he brought his whole power to bear against the mounted Pegasus’s knights. His masters had been clear: no witnesses. Their plan would suffer no interruptions.

As the last feather consumed itself in the flickering fires of Tzeentch, Rajaxx overviewed the battlefield. He had lost a little over half of the Tzeentchian warriors, a terrible loss but nevertheless replaceable. He barely registered the fact the Wood Elves fled back into their woods. A search party would be sent after them. And not to rescue them.¸

Of the Bretonians, naught remained. A few peasants here and there, fleeing for their lives. A group of elves dared dwell further into the woods, confident backup would be on the way. They probably fell upon one of the numerous magical traps surrounding the groove where the Conclave focused their powers.

The Lord Daemon Prince would come back into this world. Kholek the Suneater, the Bringer of Darkness, Tempest Incarnate, would be heard of once more.

And once into this world, there would be no stopping him…

As recorded by Archmagus Rajaxx, a short time before the second coming of the Daemon Kholek.

Approved and verified by my hand

Maxime Farley, Everchosen of Chaos, Lord of Terror

40K Battle Report 3

Un petit Battle Report de 40K, question de rendre vos 2 journées de congé un peut plus excitante!

Vendredi prochain, ils en a qui sont partant pour un autre gaming day?

Moi, je suis partant pour une game de Fantasy ou Lotr, si quelqu'un a envi d'un bon défi :)

J'aimerais aussi savoir qui seraient partant pour l'après-midi gaming-pizza-cinéma qui aurait probablement lieu jeudi le 23 décembre. J'ai déjà en t^te quelques films qui, j'en suis convaincu, sauront vous stimuler au maximum au niveau poésie, romance et discussion philosophique....... Je vous ferai la surprise en temps et lieu, mais vous ne serez pas déçu: C'EST GARANTI!

A Prayer by the Stir River - by Mister G.

A Prayer by the Stir River

Reinïger spat on the ground. How could those foul followers of chaos be so much south? This was Stirland, by Sigmar’s name, not Kislev!

The great river Stir was known for a lot of bad things, especially here, so close to Sylvania. Thieves and pirates were bad enough. But lately, the greenskins were pretty active near the mountains of World’s End Edge. There were also more and more rumors about the «walking dead». It had been a while since Stirland had problems with these.

A full army of Chaos Warriors (not those common savages from the North, but the mighty fighters of legends) clad in what looked like impenetrable armors was probably something unheard of in Stirland for at least a generation.

- Markus?

- Yes Emmerich.

- The General and the knights are ready on the right flank.

Markus spat on the ground again.

- All right, let’s see if those walking studs can withstand the strengh of Sigmar’s children.

Emmerich smiled, but it was a nervous one. The Celestial mage hadn’t seen much fighting since he left Altdorf. He had a good magical potential and he had done what he could against some greenskins and a little skirmish with some Highelves in the last weeks.

Markus Reinïger lowered his head and started singing a prayer to Sigmar. He could hear the men behind him gripping their halberds tighter while joining the singing. Soon, the whole army was chanting, the prayer gaining momentum and strength.

He was proud of them because they were all scared of this new, unknown foe they would have to fight today. He was proud because they were showing guts and Markus Reinïger, lowly Warrior Priest of Sigmar, wasn’t about to let them down. He was about to show all those free men how to crack open some Chaos armor.

He looked left and saw the Flagellants dancing and singing and mutilating themselves while waiting to die for Sigmar. The Greatswords were ready, as always.

On the right flank, he saw the young General and his knights, impatient, on his mighty steed, waiting for the signal he and the priest had arranged. The swordsmen were hiting their shilds with their swords in unisson with the beat of the song. The whole army was ready to stand and fight for their homeland.

He took the two warhammers from his side and raised them both over his head and the whole Empire army fell silent.The Chaos army was ready to advance and he saw armored sorcerers strating to weave the winds magic.

It was time.

- By Sigmar!!! Let’s show these spiky assholes how it’s done!

The Empire army answered with a great roar and then, all hell broke lose. The artillery shot their payload all at once, the handgunners and the crossbowmen joining the lethal barrage.

The Chaos army was now advancing and closing the gap, suffering casualties; not as many as Reinïger would have liked. Those chaos armors were not for show. Beside him, Emmerich was trying to close the ennemies magic as best as he could. At least 2 Sorcerers were summoning curses and hexes. So far, the Celestial mage was succesfull in containing the evil magic.

On the right flanck, Markus saw that the General was wounded and having trouble with several Chaos Warriors of Nurgle and one of the Sorcerer. A few knights laid dead already.

He couldn’t do anything to help now. A large unit of Marauders were fast approaching the center of the Empire line. Reinïger and his halberdiers, supported by the swordsmen, crashed in them like a tidal wave. The northmen were strong but the disciplined and fury of his men was to great for the followers of Chaos.

Around Reinïger, the battle was raging. Even so, he could hear the screams of the flagellants being butchered on the left flank. They had to hold the flank. Hopefully, the Greatwords were not far.

Then, Markus saw one of the mighty Sorcerer, his thick armor crackling with eldritch energy. With a voice full of confidence, he launched a challenge to the sorcerer who accepted, laughing at this feeble opponent. Without losing a second, Reinïger furiously assaulted the Sorcerer who was caught flatfooted and had to backup.

Each hit by Markus was of a strengh and a speed the Sorcerer had never thought possible from a feeble human unblessed by the Chaos Gods.

The Sorcerer tried to fight back but he was now slow, feeble and… bleeding?

- Impossible… the gods are abandoning me.

Reinïger started laughing.

- That’s all you’ve got, Sorcerer? Pathetic excuses?

He crashed one of his hammer right on the chest of his opponent and saw blood pourring out of the Chaos helmet.

- What did you think? That we would not fight for our homes, our friends, our families? You tought we would flee before you, like weaklings?

He blocked a desperated strike from the Sorcerer with his left warhammer and then spun on himself while crouching, gaining momentum with his other warhammer and smashing the kneecap of the chaos worshipper.

- Sigmar’s giving me strengh, stealing yours to make my arm obliterate your discusting face!

And while the Chaos Sorcerer was falling down, unable to support himself with his shattered knee, Markus Reinïger took a mighty upward swing with both warhammers that connected with the face of the Sorcerer, ending his life in a bloody mess.

On the left flank, the Greatswords had flanked the Chaos knights that were butchering the Flagellants. On the right side, the General and the remaining knights were riding hard to help and wipeout the Chaos survivors.

Then, coming from behind an abandonned house, a big unit of Khornate warriors appeared in front of Reinïger and his halberdiers. Those were out for blood and vangeance, not victory. A shiver ran trough Markus’s body. More of his friends would die today.

Then… Kaboum!!

Reinïger was blinking in surprise. Half the Khornates warriors laid dead, most of them cut in half by a perfect shot by the Great Cannon team on the hill behind them. «Sigmar bless them!»

The remainging warriors of Khorne left running, knowing they would not be able to achieve anything, not anymore.

A great roar came from all the men around him. They had done it. They had fend off a Chaos warparty , a first in Stirland in 20 years! Reinïger looked around him and saw the grin in the faces of those surrounding him. This was a great victory, and besides the Flagellants, they hadn’t suffered great casualties. He saw the Celestial mage walking slowly towards him.

- So Emmerich Weber, missing the taverns of the great capital city yet?

- Never had such a bloody headache in Altdorf… even after that time i drank beer with a dwarf…

Reinïger looked more closely at Emmerich and saw that the mage had suffered. Blood was coming out of his eyes, nose and ears. He looked confused.

- You okay, Weber?

- Nothing time will not heal.

- Good, you did a good job today, for a town boy. Shutting all that Chaos magic by yourself.

- You were not so bad yourself, Markus. I saw you destroy that Sorcerer. Did you use that little mirror I gave you?

- I did. In the end, I think the Sorcerer felt like his gods abandonned him. He never suspected that such a little thing could do what it did to him.

- Glad it helped.

- Yes, me too. Time to go pray Sigmar for our victory. And then, Emmerich, my friend, we’re gonna go have a drink with the good General. I heard he’s got some good beer. Came directly from Bugman’s Brewery.

- Bugman’s Brewery? Markus, isn’t that dwarf beer?

- The best in the Word!

The fall of inquisitor lord evrard; part 1

The inquisitor lord Evrard was investigating the fortress of redemption a mere day or two after the planet fall assault of both his forces and the ultramarines he commanded.

The fortress was disgusting, bloated of the raw strength of the warp. Rivers of blood bled from the walls. Flies were everywhere, filled with deadly viruses that could overcome even the mighty space marine’s organisms in bare seconds. Rooms of pure ecstasy where powerful musk tempted the unfortunate with promises of impossible pleasure. The full of it eternally twisting without coherence or any form of organisation.

From the outdoors, this seemed like simple fortress of redemption, yet decorated with horrible symbols honouring the dark gods of chaos. From the inside, he discovered it was much, much more. The strength of each god was present in such quantities that it took the life of twenty astartes just to overcome the defences and penetrate the hall of command.

Entering the once-glorious hall, Evrard felt that something were wrong; the warp had no presence there. This place was totally free of the abhorrent taint of chaos. No, it was not entirely true; he could feel a single, yet strong, source of warp power at the end of the room.

He told his retinue, all brave warriors he teached himself in the art of fighting daemon kind, to follow him from a distance and then he walked up the command stairs, admiring the marble composing them. He then walked to the end of the room where he found a long, decorated, podium; on it was left one huge glass sphere.

At the very moment his eyes saw it, he knew he couldn’t look away, even if he wanted it. But he did not want so. Even if he could feel the strength of the warp in this object, it were not hideous, it looked as if this object escaped the taint of chaos but still used his power. He slowly advanced toward the object of his fascination. Gared, one of his retinue, asked him what he were doing, but Evrard did not answer; all too focused on the artefact he had just found.

There were currents inside the sphere. It looked like pure warp energy that was flowing through it. It would be one act of idiocy to touch such an object, but he felt that if he only touched it, he would be able to understand his meaning and purpose. Yet it was a stupid idea, never before had he directly touched such artefact, Evrard would not start today. What were his hands doing?

Pain

Pure, liquid agony flowed through his veins at the very moment his hands met the sphere. He could not think anymore, only suffer. His body did not move an inch, nor could it.

Pain

For a long moment he suffered. Then he realized it was not only pain that flowed through him, but also sight.

 Pain

All visions were happening at that precise moment. They were too many for him to register but too few to drown him.

Pain

After what seemed an eternity, he saw the scheme and understood part of it. The currents that flowed through the artefact were not warp energy, they were visions.

Pain

After another eternity, he finally discovered how to master it. The pain flowed down a little and he succeeded in slowing the processing of visions. For a split-second his control held, but he saw much in such a short time. All the plans of the worshippers of chaos were revealed to him: their supply routes, their reinforcements arriving, but more importantly where they thought that their mad gods wanted them to fight. He saw the dark eldar archon hidden in the webway stealing the soul of a dozen young women all at a time to feed his decadent life and the new broods that the hive fleet were breeding.

Pain

His control broke and his agony started anew. New visions flowed through him. He didn’t choose them but knew how true they were. Where showed to him space marines banqueting in orbit, a battle-captain enjoying the night with his poor victim, young noviciates beating each other in bloody battles so they would feel no pain and much more. He was horrified and truly shocked. It lasted longer than he ever thought it could, each vice of the angels of death revealed to him one after the other.

Pain

He felt tears of rage running down his face. Never had he seen so depraved chapters. They were tainted without recognition. They were too far down the road to see the light.

Pain

Purged, they all ought to be purged. In fire and blood shall it end.

Pain

He didn’t hear the evil and cackling laughter that followed his thoughts. But he witnessed the strength of the warp artefact decreasing. Before it could be extenuated, he used his powerful will to discover all he could about this object. He felt that this one object was linked to dozens of daemonic pact, each one of them commanding a single daemon. He activated all of them and ordered each warp-spawn under his command to help his ultramarines defeat the corrupted astartes.

He then accumulated his will and got his hands off the sphere. It looked empty as if all its power had been used. Evrard was not surprised, after all that he saw and the pacts that he used. He stormed the corridor down to meet librarian Elivad.

-Depart immediately to attack the other space marines chapters. Purge all of them. Leave no survivor.

-What my lord?

-You shall obey my command, librarian

Remembering how inferior he was, Elivad remembered his formation and opted to obey

-Yes my lord

-Good Elivad. Another thing, I will dispatch pacted daemons to help you. They will not attack your troops and nor shall your troops do.

The librarian nodded, horrified of the use of such beings and not eager of fighting on their side. He had heard of inquisitor lords using the warp strength against itself, but he didn’t think Evrard were one of them. Still he had given his word; he could not refuse now...

A few moments after the last member of Evrard’s retinue left the command room, the air flickered and 10 lord of change were rendered visible. They all turned to Kairos, the eldest and strongest of them, the only daemon that ever survived being thrown in the well of eternity, the only being in the universe to understand the future in its entirety, yet that could only speak of it in impossible riddles. Fateweaver lifted his two heads and started laughing anew.

-Do not worry brothers, it worked. This fool is convinced of what we showed him and that he could command such an enormous daemonic army. We weaved the spell too well for him to see the truth before it is too late.

All the other greater daemons nodded. Then their chaotic forms disappeared in the warp, back to Their Lord’s realm and ready to continue anoter thread of Tzeentch's master plan.

Fantasy Battle Report 1

Un petit Battle report de Warhammer Fantasy pour faire changement un petit peu.

Une bonne petite partie contre Charles (Orcs & Goblins) qui a joué d'un peu de malchance. Vous allez voir... le moral est primordial dans WHF!

Cliquez une deuxième fois sur le vidéo pour avoir la version widescreen. Bon BatRep!



Lord Inquisitor G.

Battle Report 1 (Planetstrike)

Enfin! Le premier battle report en full video!

Je pense que le concept est cool... même si une partie du vidéo est ... à l'envers... mais bon. C'est une première tentative et je pense que le prochain sera beaucoup mieux!





Merci à Gabriel CC, Anthony et Félix d'avoir participé à ce premier test.

Il y aura aussi une pièce de fluff qui viendra bientôt sur le site. Et je peux vous dire qu'après l'avoir lu, je peux vous dire que la qualité est superbe... je pensais lire un livre de la Black Library!

On ce revoit dans 2 jours sur le blog!

Lord G.