Last weekend saw a frightful disturbance in the shattered ruins of the Dömplatz, in southern Mordheim. The cathedral square - already shattered by a multitude of meteorites from the Comet - was invaded by two warbands of nightmarish creatures, squabbling to secure the shattered square.
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| the Dömplatz |
Long-since denuded of the obvious wyrdstone shards, the surviving buildings around the Dömplatz were rumoured to hold stashes of the cursed rock. The great cathedral that once dominated the south-western corner had been obliterated by the Comet; the font still retained an eerie green glow that even the monstrous avoided. Instead, the warbands sought to secure the two towers in the north-west and west, the graveyard to the south-east, Shallya's abandoned shrine in the east, and the eerie tower of Morr that loomed in the north-east, the memento mori carved into its stonework now laced with terrible new meaning.
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| Servants of the True Emperor |
Pijavic ‘the Impious’ von Carstein and his band of cretins, murderers and shambling horrors sought to secure at least the graveyard and the abandoned tower of Morr. The first would allow Jakob Karg new sources for his grotesque sorcery. The latter amused the vicious little sycophant.
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| The Crowgor's Herd |
The Crowgor sought to despoil the places sacred to Man, to feast on the bones in vault and scrawl the nightmarish sigils of his people across the high vaults of the Mannish gods. Also, he bore grudges against the grey-limbed humans after
last time.
For this game, James and I rolled up Scenario 8: Occupy. We realised after taking our first respective bottle rolls that the idea was to actually seize the buildings in question and wait out eight turns rather than just, uh, running at each other across the ruined Dömplatz. Oh well!
We aren't playing a campaign as there are only three of us and our schedules are too haphazard to run a proper campaign. In my black heart, I want to create some NPC warbands and run some narrative campaigns but don't have time. Maybe in the future.
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| the warbands clash in the ruins of the Dömplatz |
The objectives were: The big round tower; the square tower; the cemetary; the open-sided shrine; the skull-covered tower. The craters and rubble were difficult terrain. Without archery on either side, the open-ness of the board wasn't really a concern, but a proper Mordheim game should have more LoS-blocking pieces.
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| Gary and the other ghouls skitter past the graveyard |
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| Jakob Karg and Zhalky cower behind the zombie men-at-arms |
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| Pijavic and his hounds pick their way through the ruined platz |
The first turns saw the Crowgor and Pijavic splitting their, erm, 'men' up and selecting targets. Proklyy, one of the hunchbacked servants, limped his way into the graveyard to secure it for his master. Everyone else herded their way forward.
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| the drunken centigor clatters his way between broken temples |
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| the hellhound howls in the ruins of a building dedicated to some Mannish fool |
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| the Crowgor leads the Ungors south while Moonskin and Once-Fox block the tower gate |
Herr Karg summoned the spirits of the unquiet dead dragging down the bestial centigor. Its goat-like hooves clattered against the chaos-tainted stones of the plaza in vain. Grey-green hands plunged into its breast and stomach, churning the thing's innards as he bleated to the dark gods for help.
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| if only those fools could witness my power! |
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| stunning work (sorry) |
Flushed with his master's success, Zhalky herded the zombie men-at-arms into what had probably once been a shrine to Shallya. It was soon to be slicked with blood.
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| nothing will go wrong with this plan |
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| Moonskin and Once-Fox stare down the undead beasts |
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| Twistskins make their way through the ruined plaza |
On the western flank, the vampire and beastmen paused to size one another up. Once-Fox attempted to cast her poisonous blood spell, but her knife only drew her own red blood; the dark gods had withdrawn their favour.
A canine smile spreading across his ruined face, von Carstein sent his wolves to the attack. They howled, leaping across the cratered cobblestones...
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| 'Awooo' |
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| Karg targets another of the twisted things for his fell magic |
The pack of ghouls rushed the still-trapped centigor, with predictable results.
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| bonk |
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| nice doggy |
On the other side of the plaza, the dire wolves were horrible effectively. One smashed into Once-Fox, tearing into her shoulder and knocking the cursed animal clean out of the fight. Moonskin raised his shield to deflect the other, but was knocked down by the beast's dead weight.
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| cronch |
The Crowgor led his stunted brethren into the fight for Shallya's shrine. The skinny hornless ones rushed into a zombie man-at-arms who protected one entrance; the fight would be brief.
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| Get them! |
Another of the lesser beastmen rushed into the ghoulpack, possibly trying to help Hellhound; possibly trying to get to the unconscious centigor before something else had a chance to eat it.
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| a brave young, er, not-man |
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| Moonskin recovered nicely, you could say |
Pijavic hesitated. He could trust the two wolves to eliminate the remaining mutant, but he needed to guard the western tower against these savages. If he stayed here while sending the wolves into the north-western tower, then that would be more than half the buildings secure. Could he trust the old man to capture the shrine?
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| a swirling melee |
At the shrine, battle was joined in earnest. The zombies proved slender defence against enraged beastmen. Karg ordered the last man-at-arms and Zhalky to stand in front of him, as the Bestigor he'd earlier laid out with sorcery came bellowing for revenge. The ghoulpack clashed with ungors and the hound.
Pijavic, moving faster than any mortal could, sprints into the hulking warlord just as he hurls himself to his cloven feet. The vampire slams his halberd against the bestial chief's stomach, laying the thing low; and the Sylvanian's last surviving man-at-arms brings his club down.
There is a sickening crunch.
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Shallya's shrine is saved from Chaos!
(To be desecrated by the undead instead) |
The ungor had left their master to attack the necromancer. Karg brought up his scimitar in a hissing arc, desperate to defend himself. Words of power stammered helplessly from his lips - enough to get the attention of the ghoulpack, who leapt onto the slender twistskins, claws and bone weapons gleaming.
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| ghouls and ungors converge on Jakob Karg |
On the western side, the last of the long-horned 'gors stood tall. Moonskin had fended off the attacks of two dire wolves for long minutes, the dead things gnawing only the edge of his steel shield while he hacked into their rotting flanks.
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| Moonskin stands alone |
He knocked one back with the shield, stunning it for a moment; as he looked over the shattered Dömplatz, he realised that the Dead Men had beaten them soundly. He bellowed into the scarred skies over Mordheim. The beasts withdrew from the plaza.
As they left, the ghouls began to feast...
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| 1560 Munster Comographia Cannibals [source] |
We rolled for injuries to see what would have happened if this were a campaign. I lost one of the two zombies taken out as well as the dire wolf (50 gold coins!). Zhalky suffered a deep wound and had to miss three games recovering.
James on the other hand managed to lose every single one of his heroes and henchmen except his centigor, which became hardened and immune to fear. Good thing this wasn't a campaign! That's the 'restart warband' level of bad news.
I continue to love Mordheim. It's as much fun now as twenty years ago! James and I are keen to to keep playing Mordheim when we manage to meet up for games.
I will leave you with one final image from last Sunday:
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| Thistle |
Thistle wanted to come to the game. I'm afraid that she wouldn't really like hanging out at the local games store, so I had to tell her no.
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