The Fairglades is made up of many different types of terrain, the central areas are mainly flat but scattered with low lying marsh and wooded areas.
In one such place, not far from a small village, one of the military's patrols are moving through investigating reports of a missing hunter and eerie noises coming from the trees at night.
Not one for superstition Marcus Brillus led his men to the huntsmans lodge, close to some ancient ruins of a house, which possibly served the same purpose.
Shortly after their arrival an evil laugh could be heard which was followed by the dry scraping of bone and bone combined with the sound of rusted links of chainmail and the creaking of armour. The undead host were upon them!
The forces line up to face battle.
Both sides advance, boldly, towards the enemy.
Battle is met! In the center undead Draugr move to engage the human infantry, only to find a trap sprung and themselves fighting in a fray with two enemy units!
The third unit of the patrol moves to the rear of the hunting lodge as to prevent a skeleton unit from flanking around to the back of the fray happening yards away.
The skeletons threatening to flank - advance from the depths of the woods.
Meanwhile, back in the center, Marcus is joined by his junior officer who both wade in to fight like true heroes alongside their men. As they do so, a black shadow darts from the trees towards the melee. The wraith is unleashed!
The right hold fast, preparing for the undead charge they are sure is to come.
In the center the battle rages on.
The wraith then joins in the fight. Then the Wight Lord ponders before issuing a silent command to the skeletons threatening to flank, fearing that the Draugr are doomed and need relief, their advance turns towards the center.
It is not clear as to why, but the skeletons on the undead right remain ever watchful, stoic and silent bar the sound of a rhythmic beating drum, their tattered banner and rags flapping in the breeze.
At this point, the battle reaches it's climax. Marcus and his men, who have battled for so long, start to struggle against the tide that is now upon them. Both units of skeletons advanced into the fray in the center - the draugr who have seen many of their number slain, only to be risen from the dead by their master - have held on long enough for strength to arrive. The human commander now feeling that his fate may lie in front of him, spurs on his men for one last push.
Marcus is slain, his heroics unrewarded, his men - in shock, recoil with the undead host biting at their heels all of the way.
The undead go on to slaughter most of the patrol, the junior officer falls to the Draugr and the remains of the patrol flee for their lives. It looks like superstition is some times well founded. The senate will have to be alerted, should one of the patrol make it back to the village . . . . . .
Edit: My opponent for the game was Daemonforge and the rules used to depict the game were Of Gods and Mortals, without using any Gods, just Legends and Mortals with units built using the system in the book.
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May 01, 2024, 03:38:31 AM
April 20, 2009, 10:21:36 PM