A YEAR IN THE BADLANDS - SUMMER NARRATIVE CAMPAIGN

[lagar312]

Setting the Scene

The Badlands are located to the south of the Old World, bordered by the Dragonback Mountains, the World's Edge Mountains, the Blind River and the Marshes of Madness. The land is dry and arid, dominated by bleak rocky hills and dust-ridden moorlands. Weird rock formations rise in twisted shapes from the barren earth, and crumbling, haunted ruins from the time of the ancient Mourkain empire dot the landscape in every direction. All manner of predators both living and dead prowl the wasted land. Ghouls stalk the craggy bluffs, black feathered carrion birds circle overhead, and packs of ravening Chaos Hounds hunt for easy prey under the light of the green-tinged moon, Morrslieb. In the southern reaches of the Badlands dwells a great tribe of Ogres, and they will suffer no trespassers to enter their territory.
Countless tribes of Greenskins have called the Badlands home over the centuries; indeed, it is said that there are enough Orcs and Goblins in the Badlands to form an army big enough to invade the Old World many times over, if they could only stop fighting between themselves and reliably unite for a common purpose.

Rumors abound of a mysterious fortress and the secrets that await locked in its vaults. Tales tell of a map kept within that can help lead its owner to the gates of a great stronghold that will give untold power to the one who can claim it.  You however are not alone in your pursuit of unlimited power. Your scouts report that all over the Badlands other warlords are mustering their power as well.  Can you seize power and rise above your enemies to stand triumphant, or will you merely become a stepping stone to a rival's supreme victory?

Background to Running the Narrative Campaign

My and Tom originally decided we wanted to try and get a Narrative map based campaign up and running at the club; with the vast majority of game being 2400pts battleline or straight up tournament practice currently we wanted to encourage more fluffy lists and wacky scenarios. An example is our use of the Regiment of Renown which is a unit able to gain added abilities as the campaign progresses to reflect the trials and tribulations they've overcome. To promote fluffy list building we have limited players to a single unit choice from their respective army books which would never usually see the tabletop as they're regarded as sub par for the regiment.
As such using the Blood in the Badlands Campaign book released by GW last year and adding our own tweaks we've come up with what we think will be a very fun and fluffy campaign. Obviously as this is a lot more involved that the previous campaigns the club have run and wanting to ensure we ironed out any bugs before rolling this out to the club in general we decided to run this as a test campaign with a limited number of players in a more team oriented format (not to say that team mates can't and won't come to blows during the campaign of course) over the course of a single year in the Badlands which we expect to run for around 2 months.


So without further a due our six victims... I mean contestants are:-

Team Order           Race                     Regiment of Renown
Mike B -                  Empire   -              Swordsmen
Rob R -                    Dwarves  -             Slayers
JD -                         Lizardmen    -        Kroxigor (without skinks)

Team Destruction    Race              Regiment of Renown             
Matt -                       Beastmen  -     Centigors
Sam -                        Warrior  -        Forsaken
Tom K -                    Skaven  -         NightRunners

Over the next weeks and months we'll be trying to document the trial and tribulations of the players and of course eventually the winner of the Campaign.

[TkaiC]

Drumroll please!  May I introduce...scion of Clan Eshin, despoiler of dreams, haunter of hopes, assassin of...er...assignations?  The steely paw within the fingerless glove...the great Squeek De Truire, Doom of Ages!



As the sounds of close combat echoed through the tunnels, a group of heavily armoured Skaven emerged from the darkness, intent on the flickering chamber ahead.  "Quick-quick, we must get to the man things' treasure," spat  Clan Lord Vulgun Split-Tail as he urged his personal guard along the underground passage.  "We musts get there before the others, they can fight the manthings and I, ah, we, shall be heroes!  Quick-qui!" –  The silken glove made no sound as it struck the snout of the bloated, black furred warlord, but stopped his ranting mid flow.  The silence of the assault spread out through the cave; the red eyes of two score ratmen stared in shock at the back of Squeek De Truire, glove wielder.  He had appeared from nowhere, as befitted an adept of Clan Eshin, but had then done something rather odd, even for him.  Accession to the rank of warlord was a bloody business, best conducted through intricate plotting, treason and treachery.  Fingerless gloves weren't generally a favoured tactic.  Warlord Vulgun, almost twice the size of Squeek, spluttered in rage but was checked by a second slap from the fateful glove. 
"I challenge you, slug Vulgun, to the death!"  His dramatic words uttered, Squeek struck a pose of heroic endeavour.  Vulgun instead struck for the throat, his claws straining to rend the flesh of his insane challenger.  Before he could close the short gap though, twin blades emerged from his belly and he dropped to the tunnel floor, his war cry fading into a bubbling sigh.  The blades were withdrawn and their owners, two masked Assassins, stepped over the corpse to flank their leader.
"For my challenge-fight, I choose-pick the weapons.  I choose...Abbatre and Égorger.  You agree?  Yes-Yes?  Vulgan?  Yes, I see you do."  His glittering eyes scanned the stormvermin.  "You agree-choose me, too?".  The heavily armed ratmen nervously looked at the three slight figures ahead and as one exposed their throats in submission.  The new warlord of Clan Poignarder had arisen.
Although the minions of the Horned Rat are perhaps most associated with their Under-Empire, burrowing into the soft underbelly of Man-Thing Karl Franz's cities, many clans have spread further afield.  Deep beneath the verdant fields of Brettonia, Squeek De Truire,  newly raised Lord of Clan Poignard plots his next steps.  With the muscle of the Clan behind him, and guarded by his own clawpicked Couriers De Nuit he can finally achieve the power and greatness he has always known the Horned Rat meant for him.  He has the troops, and the allies to make himself as great as any Council member, if his plan works.  His two brother assassins, Egorger et Abbattre, are the keys to this.  One will join the foul Plague Priest Pere Ordure, whose crazed zealots champ at the bit to spread the gospel of disease.  The other will attach himself like a steel tipped shadow to Gabarit Moule, a lesser warlord who stands at the head of an army of Moulder beasts, including a mighty Hellpit Abomination.  With these two frenzied  packs unleashing terror and rapine across the land, but their leaders' held in check, Squeek's own forces will be free to conquer.  The world shall be his.

[roland murat]

The rain came crashing down as the red coated army marched deeper and deeper into the badlands. Stories of wealth and available land had prompted Artur II to send a force to expand the Albian Empire. Having selected a young, but promising, noble to take the lead the King ordered that support be provided by church and magic school alike.

The King has high hopes of cementing the position of a loyal follower and riches are never to be passed up. Earl Bodmin has also been appointed as commander of a loose alliance as dwarves and elves join the forces of man in the march to war. Will the alliance hold? Will the Albion empire grow? Or will several proud regiments be tranished by chaos, disorder and defeat? Only time will tell.

[lagar312]

Right Gents,
                   We're kicking this off this Thursday 02.08.12.

Tom has to leave by 10pm so i'll book us a table for both slots and we can get empire placement and 1st turn moves done and run through the rules!

See you all Thursday!

[katarr]

Holm Hardheart led his raiders deep into the Northern Wastes after conversing with two hooded strangers in the aftermath of a successful pillage. His two sons, Tjol and Tore questioned the expedition on behalf of the doubting warband but were convinced of the gory bounty the moment they saw the bloodfury in the Hardhearts eyes.

The warband marched for a year into the waste leaving only the bloodiest and hardest to arrive at the final destination. The Hardheart led his remaining men unerringly into the bloodless portal of a horizon dominating cathedral constructed from the skulls of those slain in the name of Khorne.

They came out changed - blessed by the Blood God himself. They were given his mark to slay for and the horrendous physical mutations to carve out a bloody nation in his name.

The march back to civilization, slaughter and blood began.

[cunningmatt]

Rashnrak the Beastlord strode into the clearing, he was the undisputed leader of his tribe, it was he who had crushed the other great tribes of the Badlands, he who had destroyed the Dwarven mines of the mountains and defeated the wagon train of the Empire.

Without word his Great-Bray Shamans arrived. Malagor, scourge of the Empire landed his great black wings furled up and his readied himself for battle. The terror of man, Malagor, had personally seen the wagon train of the Empire flee for their lives before his Gors ran them through mercilessly. Malagor himself plucked the Razor Standard from the Imperial Standard's cold dead hand, presenting it to Rashnrak's personal Centigors.

Delithor was the second Great Shaman of Rashnrak's tribe, his connection to the visions of the Chaos Gods was the strongest of any shaman known in the Badlands.  He spoke to Rashnrak in a strange alien voice not of his own. "The humans come, and they bring their allies. This is your chance to rule the Badlands. The Hunter shall become the Hunted once more. As it was, as it always should be." As one the tribe roared, the blood of the hated one will soon be split, for the true Children of Chaos would take what was their due. And it would be Rashnrak who would deliver it.

[JD]

The early morning mist parted as the giant Carnosaur threaded its way through the boulder strewn surface of the canyon floor . Reigning in his monstrous mount Scar Leader Sakngea gazed from canyon floor to ridge with all the impassiveness of his cold blooded nature . After watching his Skink Skirmishers range ahead and above securing the safe passage of the main host Sakngea turned his attention to the column winding its way down the canyon floor . First to reach his position was the column of Saurus Warriors lead by Scar Veteran Prakoso carrying the hosts Banner . As the Saurus halted behind the massive Carnosaur  the mist broke revealing a regiment of the huge Kroxigor coming to a halt . Movement from above drew Sakngea's attention and he watched the Skink Priest Seiichi float to the ground . Silently Seiichi gave his report of the Steggadon baggage train bringing up the rear of the column flanked by the Salamander teams and remaining Skink Skirmishers  .

Content with the progress of his host Sakngea turned his attention to the purpose of his presence in the Bad Lands so far from his native Lustria . Once a Scar Leader of a host guarding the northern most fringes of Lustria from Dark Elf incursions , Sakngea was given this new responsibility far from his native lands when one of the ancient Lost Plaques was discovered . Upon  being deciphered the Plaque revealed a great source of magic capable of threatening the great warding was hidden in the depths of the Bad Lands  . Should this be discovered by any of the savages dwelling in this alien land it could mean the ruination of all the plans laid down by the Old Ones .

At any cost Sakngea must prevent this source from being discovered .

[fatolaf]

Just missing the Dwarfy fluff, come on Rob, pull your finger out 

[TkaiC]

Very sorry gents, have to go into work early so now can't make tonight.  Stupid sports day ruining my shifts for the next month and a half.  (Just kidding, go Team GB!)

[lagar312]

Very sorry gents, have to go into work early so now can't make tonight.  Stupid sports day ruining my shifts for the next month and a half.  (Just kidding, go Team GB!)

We're still on for tonight gents. I have spoken with Tom and he's happy for Matt or Sam to do his turn...