My preordered copies of the Fallen Kingdom and Vanguards faction decks arrived from Plaid Hat Games on June 24, so my son and I decided to put them through their paces as soon as possible.

Harrison, 9, has had a fair degree of success previously in Summoner Wars using Tundra Orcs. Upon seeing the new factions: the vile undead of the Fallen Kingdom and the righteous heroes of the Vanguards, Harrison was attracted to the menacing look of the forces of Ret-Talus. Also, I think he was bound and determined not to play a faction led by a girl, but we’ll forgive this in a fourth-grader.

As the game begins, you’ll see that he takes the first turn, immediately moving a zombie warrior and skeletal archer across the field to draw first blood. I didn’t question his tactics, extending himself so, because I knew his deck featured various ways for him to pull cards from the discard pile to reinforce his agents on the field. Since Skeletal Archers are magic locked, there’s a a 75% chance they’ll end up in his discard pile instead of my magic pile, anyway.

I was able to weather this early advance with a couple of Guardian Knights and a Stalwart Archer. I also took a bit of a gamble early in the game, not familiar with the “best” time to play Sera Eldwyn’s event card that removes a wound token from each common Vanguard unit on the field, and played it to remove the wound tokens from the two cards that had repelled the undead advance, believing it would let me press and even increase my early advantage in numbers.

This turned out to work perfectly, as I was consistently able, for the rest of the game, to meet each threatening unit of his with multiple units of my own.

He kept his reaper out of the fray early, and when I was able to summon a priest a few turns later, I quickly advanced him across the board and used the event card that gave him a +2 on his attack role. He didn’t kill the Reaper, but he did rock him back on his heels in such a way that he’d never recover.

By the time another reaper appeared later in the game, I had an impressive array of Stalwart Archers ready to gun him down. The ability of a Stalwart Archer to gain a combat bonus for each adjacent Stalwart Archer is, in my opinion after the first game, the most potent offensive asset in the Vanguards arsenal.

I believe Harrison missed an opportunity to have the skeletal archers plink away at my units and have the Reapers move up to finish them off, devouring their souls and incrementally empowering their own future attacks with each hero reaped. I don’t think he yet grasps the notion of not attacking every time it’s possible and instead building up for a coordinated assault or defense.

At any rate, since I didn’t have much on the field that hit hard, you’ll notice in the middle of the game I move Sera up to support her Knights with some offense. She takes a little damage in the middle but as the battle lines changed, particularly when Harrison was able to successfully play Legions of the Dead and bring three commons from his discard pile adjacent to Ret-Talus, she would move to try to cover the far side of the board.

She did this fairly admirably, but did take some scratches from Skeletal Archers. Harrison then moved his summoner over, I think trying to force an end game since he saw Sera wounded, and blasted her for another two wounds.

This was the trap I had been working to set, however. Once he had Ret-Talus moved up, I played a wall, blocking any further attacks on my summoner from Ret Talus, and moving her back deeper into the protection of friendly units.

I also successfully hammered away at his supporting units, and as his summoner was his only offensive option, he made the choice to move him toward my lines instead of retreating behind his own wall and regrouping.

This was the second part of my trap.

I had enough of an advantage on the field that I had been able to build up my magic substantially, and Kalon Lightbringer was summoned in front of the wall I had just erected for defense — immediately adjacent to Ret-Talus.

I also had continued to build my firing line of Stalwart Archers, and with a little bit of maneuvering, I was able to finish the undead summoner with the combined effort of my champion and the 4-attack-dice rain of arrows from the archers.

It is hard to say after one game, but I really like both of these new factions. I feel good about the decisions I made with the Vanguards, but I know I would have had a harder time of it had the Fallen Kingdom player understood how to use his forces better. I also feel like I learned a great deal about what I would have done had I been playing the other side. Needless to say, I think I would have coordinated the efforts of my infantry better, and I certainly would have tried to move my summoner back instead of forward after he had successfully whittled my leader down to two remaining wounds. I believe Fallen Kingdom should excel at regrouping and assaulting in waves, but that was hard for Harrison to grasp, especially in the first game.

My first impression is that these armies are well balanced with existing forces, but perhaps lend themselves to more experienced/advanced players who can see the way the moving parts work together. Of course, that’s true for every force in Summoner Wars, but factions like the Goblins and Orcs in particular seem to be easier for a new player to play according to their respective strengths.

I know Harrison was promising to do me great harm the next time he had his orcs in hand.

* * * * *

A couple of notes on the video … you’ll notice a couple of points when the cards change position then change back. As we were each playing a faction for the first time, we were pretty forgiving of times we second guessed our moves. In some cases, a move was repeated because the other player was distracted and didn’t see it the first time around.

Also, a section has been removed from the middle of the video while play was stopped for a phone call. That’s why the time stamp jumps so significantly.

A few weeks ago, my best friend and I began a Descent: Road to Legend campaign. We play once or twice a week over video chat (we both own copies of the game and expansions, so we both have any materials we need at hand). He elected to post our campaign on ObsidianPortal.com and I liked that contributing to the campaign site kept interest and momentum going, even during off days.

I have previously posted background on each of the characters I’m playing: Wyclef the Bear and Shaida, the Truthseer (which are my own takes on the stock characters Laughin Buldar and Truthseer Kel).

After the character history was done, I turned my attention to the adventure log. Like the character backgrounds, I didn’t want to do something cold and dry. So, I elected to write the “story so far” through the eyes of one of the characters. That is what follows. I should note that this entry focuses on the start of the campaign, and we’re really about 15 weeks in (as measured in-game). As I continue Wyclef’s notes from the journey, it is likely that I will continue to focus his notes only on the really large events like city sieges, encounters with lieutenants and legendary dungeons. I’m not going to detail all of the rumor dungeons and opportunity dungeons, because most of those are just “days at work,” for these adventurers. I’m going to touch mainly on the things that are moving the RTL story forward.

And, with that, here is Wyclef’s account of the beginnings of The Spider and the Fly campaign.

• • • • •

The Drawing of the Four

Oktar,

Wyclef The Bear - Character Art by Hugh Samples - http://hangingghost.deviantart.com

I hope this message finds you well, old friend. Fate has sunk its claws into me and pulled me back to the North, as I have journeyed with companions from my youth in an attempt to break the siege of the City of Frostgate. As I write this, I have just learned from a traveling band of refugees that the city has fallen, mere weeks after we first learned of its peril.

It is my hope the Shrieking Eel made it back out to sea before the shadow of evil fell upon this land. I never thought I’d see the day when the Sea of White Fangs and even the desolate wastes of Isheim would seem more hospitable than the cities of Terrinoth, but the past eight weeks have convinced me that the whole world is going mad.

I suppose I should start from the beginning. When I left you, I was able to secure transport south with a merchant caravan. The caravan master was all too happy to trade transport for protection as rumors and omens were already beginning to seed unease across the land. I did not give much stock to these country tales until I arrived at Woodinvale, the village of my youth near the Hanging Woods. I met my friends Sasori, Whisper and Shaida at the Iron Kettle, the only real inn and tavern in the village.

We all remarked that the land seemed desolate, empty of the people and activity we remembered from bygone days. Houses were rotting husks and the only livestock we saw were famished and dying. The innkeeper, a widowed old woman named Lidda, ladled out stories with the gruel she served. She said that in the last year the land had begun to go bad. Crops had dried up. Cattle had died. Pestilence even ran rampant through the human population, killing off a great many people in the village and other nearby settlements.

Once the village was weakened, disappearances began. Rumors suggested people had been dragged off in the night to an ancient nearby monastery — one that had been the subject of many a frightening tale as far back as when I was a boy. Stories spoke of strange, yellow-robed priests conducting strange rites and unnatural swarms of vile insects surrounding the place.

Apparently the remaining inhabitants of the village were able to hire a party to investigate the monastery, but only one member of this group returned, telling a vivid tale of monstrous creatures, evil sorcery and a black crystal pulsing with dark energy — energy that was being siphoned from the blighted land.

It was clear as Lidda looked upon us she saw a young but fearsome group — armed and armored and, more importantly, personally invested in the wellbeing of Woodinvale. As she finished her tale it was clear she meant for us to pick up where that other, ill-fated party had left off. Looking out the window, at a rotting canoe on the bank of the stagnant pond where I had taken my personal vow to become a warrior worthy of my bloodline, I knew I could not refuse this woman’s wish. Looking into the eyes of my childhood friends (well, all except Shaida’s — one does not gaze into those eyes), I knew they felt the same as I did.

We set off that very day, and as we approached the foreboding edifice of the old monastery, we waded through swarming clouds of biting and stinging insects. It was clear this infestation of vermin was anything but natural. Sounds of chanting — droning, buzzing chanting — emanated from the structure and we knew, before we ever stepped foot in that building, that Lidda’s tales were not the yarns of a senile old woman.

As we stepped through the rotted doors into the decrepit fortress, we could see a half dozen villagers, bound and prone upon the floor. Around them, a handful of robed figures and skeletal, glowing-eyed creatures of nightmare contributed their voices to the ululating insectoid buzz of the ritual. I must have kicked a chunk of mortar as I stepped closer, because the leader of the robed figures turned to us and yelled for the skeleton-things to kill the hostages. I am proud to say my band was ready, and we launched into action even as our “hosts” turned to engage.

We were able to save and free all save one of the villagers. Though we struck fiercely and hastily put down the sorcerers and their vile summoned minions, we could not prevent one of the village men from dying at the hands of the ritualists. It was, however, apparently enough to prevent a catastrophic conjuring that would have likely torn the land asunder.

As we freed the prisoners and sent them fleeing back toward Woodinvale, we agreed that we would see this thing through, that we would stop whatever forces were at work, poisoning the surrounding lands — and we plunged deeper into this tomb of horrors. Monstrous Bane Spiders, Beastmen, Undead archers and more wicked practitioners of the dark arts bubbled up from the catacombs to face us, and valiantly did we put them down.

Shaida - Character Art by Hugh Samples - http://hangingghost.deviantart.com

In harmony, my friends and I employed the skills and talents we had honed in our years since leaving the village. Shaida’s gift with fire magic and her ability to see well beyond the bounds of mortal perception proved devastating. Whisper moved like a shadowed ghost through the complex, sending well-aimed missiles into the unsuspecting foe. And Sasori, the scorpion — she was a beautiful ballet of blade work and nuanced mystical artistry. You should have seen her, Oktar. In all the years I yearned for her, I never imagined that she had become such a deadly blademistress. It cemented in my heart the sensation that we were entwined in destiny, and that the bards would sing of our deeds for ages. As my axe and sword cleaved through the denizens of this dark place beside these competent warriors, I cannot deny that I was already imagining the verses the epic we were writing in the blood of these villains.

In that moment, I could not have imagined how cruel a mistress Destiny could be.

As we descended to the deepest levels of the complex, I led the way with the battle lust upon me. I ran headlong into a pair of massive nagas — serpentine devils — and cut through them effortlessly. Blasts of Shaida’s flame arced over my shoulder and put down the razor-winged monstrosities that fell down upon us from the shadows of the vaulted ceilings.

My companions clearing the opposite end of the tunnel fell upon an enraged Manticore had been worked into a deadly fever by a torturing horde of stinging, biting, many-legged things. He fought as a creature of legend might, but it was not enough to withstand our righteous fury. As we tore through door after door, we could hear a thrumming pulse, and we knew that we approached the heart of this darkness.

A vile Master Sorcerer and his minions had summoned a massive Demon. The dark crystal spoken of by the lone survivor of this dungeon hung above the demon, clearly the source of the pulsing energy. Blackness flowed into it like rivers of shadow emptying into an ebon sea. The black energy cascaded down and around the demon, girding it in darkness.

It was clear that to fell the demon, we would first need to destroy the crystal, and as Whisper’s first arrow ricocheted near harmlessly off the gem’s faceted surface, I knew that it would require a heroic commitment. I saw that for our group to hammer away at the magical focus and the devil it protected, someone would have to stand fast against the rampaging hellion. Without a second thought, I ran headlong, past the sorcerer and his bestial bodyguards, my axe swooping into the crystal and sending black shards raining down upon the chamber. The demon screamed as the corrupt energies flickered around it and the abomination set upon me with tooth and claw.

I will not tell you I was unafraid as I beheld this unholy thing as its razored claws lashed at me relentlessly, but as I held my ground and felt the presence of my friends behind me, joining battle against the sorcerer and his retinue, I was emboldened. I stood my ground. Courage is not the absence of fear. No, true bravery is to be powerfully afraid and to act in spite of it. Not only did I uphold that virtue, but Sass, Whisper and Shaida did as well. Together, we would stand or we would fall.

The battle went well enough. Again and again the demon lashed at me, but I had uncovered a crystal shield, no doubt lost here long ago by a hero with less stalwart companions, and it withstood the brunt of the monster’s assault. The other servants of this darkness were gradually being dealt with and it seemed that our momentum would carry through. Gouts of fire were weaving down the corridor, slamming into the black crystal. I too, struck at it as the beast’s movements would allow, and the sound of the sorcerous pulse was becoming discordant and fitful.

Sasori - Character Art by Hugh Samples - http://hangingghost.deviantart.com

It was then that the dungeon belched forth a nest of gargantuan Bane Spiders, and they fell upon the rear-guard of my party. Sasori met them, her blades cutting through their webs and bodies with ease as she protected the Truthseer, Shaida, whose concentration was entirely upon the benighted gemstone and the demon it armored.

Even as the crystal exploded, I heard a choked cry and knew that a horrible exchange had just been made. Whisper skewered the blackhearted summoner with a bolt from his crossbow while Shaida and I fell upon the vulnerable demon with renewed vigor.

I had stood against this devil’s assault.

It could not stand against mine.

Screaming, I threw away my shield and took up a sword in my left hand, inviting the demon to dance. The jagged grin he showed as he closed with me did not last long, as I cleaved off his reaching talon with one stroke and drove my sword into his wretched heart with another. I cherished the look of surprise in his eyes as the coruscating black energy drained out of them, and the beast fell to the floor in a heap.

My howl of elated victory rang off the chamber walls, reverberating against the stone, the echoes eventually softening to silence.

And then I heard the sobbing.

As I turned around, I could see the somber look on Whisper’s face as he bowed his head. The whimpering was coming from Shaida, who was kneeling at a bend of the corridor. As I strode to her, my heart was seized by a cold vice, and I did not want to look around that corner. When I did, my every fear was confirmed.

Sasori hung there, in a tangle of Bane Spider web. A half dozen corpses belonging to those enormous arachnids were scattered around her. Gashes and punctures from the beasts’ pincers covered her body, the skin around the wounds eaten away by the necrotic toxins secreted by the horrid things. Her face was a white bordering on blue, and her eyes were open and staring glassily at the ceiling.

She was gone.

And with that deed, The Spider Queen — the dark overlord who has been coordinating the spread of shadow across Terrinoth — made her gravest mistake. In the dungeons beneath that monastery I had been fighting like a man with something to gain.

From this moment on, I shall fight like one with nothing to lose.

Tell my tale in all the lands you sail, Oktar. Let it be known Wyclef the Bear is on the hunt, and I will not stop until the web-spinning bitch is dead.

]]> http://nonstoptabletop.com/?feed=rss2&p=94 0 http://nonstoptabletop.com/?p=86 http://nonstoptabletop.com/?p=86#comments Sat, 17 Apr 2010 19:55:47 +0000 Josh Jenkins http://nonstoptabletop.com/?p=86 As relayed in my previous post about Shaida the Truthseer, I’ve recently begun playing in a Descent Road To Legend campaign, and rather than using the custom character creation system for my two characters, I selected existing characters as templates for stats and abilities, intending to write my own backstory for them.

While Shaida was based on Truthseer Kel, my tank, Wyclef, is based on Laughin Buldar from the Tomb of Ice expansion. I really like his the special ability to use a two-handed weapon in his primary hand as if it is a one-handed weapon. Take into account that he’s found a Dragontooth Hammer (surge = +1 damage and Piercing 2) to use in that primary hand and purchased a morningstar for his off-hand (one free surge and +1 damage), he’s quite the offensive beast. Throw in his 16 wounds, chainmail and crystal shield, and he can also dig in against even the burliest monsters.

But that’s just the crunchy stuff. His story explains much about the path he is treading to become a hero of legend.

• • • • •

Wyclef The Bear - Character Art by Hugh Samples - http://hangingghost.deviantart.com

Standing on the deck of the longship, Wyclef bent his legs and held tight to the slippery haft of the spear. Another massive wave rolled under the ship, lifting it high above the storm tossed waters before falling away, dropping the ship down into a bowl of churning sea.

His eyes, alert, scanned the waters until at last he saw the flash of the serpent’s glistening back as it curled through whitecaps a mere dozen feet from where he perched. With a howl, Wyclef threw himself over the side of the ship and onto the beast’s back, driving down with his spear as the monstrous eel-like thing dived beneath the surface, pulling the hearty warrior into the lightless depths.

Above him, Wyclef could make out the sound of screaming, and resignedly he let go of his spear and kicked toward the surface. As his face broke from the water, a wave — this time of curses and threats — washed over him.

“Fangs of the great dragon, ‘Clef, I’m soaked! Soaked!,” Sass said from the canoe that bobbed on the sun-dappled surface of the small pond.

“Sorry,” Wyclef responded, “I guess I got carried away.”

“You’re going to get killed,” his friend replied, “And I don’t mean by diving head first into shallow water.”

She lifted her small knife to illustrate her point. Wyclef smiled a devilish smile in return and scooped up a hatchet with an ornately wrapped handle that had belonged to his grandfather.

“Go ahead, I dare you!”

The girl, already an exotic beauty at the age of 14, looked down at her knife and then back up at her rapidly growing, well-muscled friend. She sheepishly tucked the knife away

“I’ll wait till you won’t see it coming,” she said.

Still grinning, Wyclef replied, “I’m descended from the line of Bulwar, hero of the Northern Seas. I fear no attack from the shadows!”

Sass rolled her eyes and huffed a deep breath. Wyclef could not avert his eyes from her over-developed bosom as her chest expanded, but she curbed his hormonally-charged arousal with an icy statement of fact.

“Your father is the village drunk,” she said. “He drove your mother away and beat you regularly until you had the good sense to come stay at my house. I’m not sure citing your lineage works in your favor.”

Though already a strapping 19 hands high and weighing near 20 stone, Wyclef shrank visibly from the girl’s words.

Sass blanched and launched into an apology, but Wyclef waved her off.

“Don’t worry about it, Sass, you’re right.” He turned to stare out over the water as he continued, “I’ll never escape from his shadow here. Though most people have learned not to say as much to my face,” at this he turned a pointed stare at her. “The whispers will always be there.

“That’s why I have to leave.”

“We’ve been over this,” she said. “You’re big as an ox, but you’re only 14. You can’t strike out on your own.”

“Then come with me,” he said — wondering if she heard his heart flutter as he said it. But, no, that was more his friend Shaida’s gift.

“You know I can’t,” she said. “I have my own dreams to chase, and they aren’t in the frigid north … and, besides, I can’t pursue them until I’m ready.”

“Well, I’m ready now,” the young man said, and hearing the steel in his voice, Sass understood that he wouldn’t be sleeping beneath her roof much longer. Knowing there was little point in continuing the argument, she reached over and took his hand.

Together, the two friends watched the sun ride low in the sky, approaching the horizon. Beyond that horizon, Wyclef knew, was his path.

The way ahead would present challenge, discovery and maybe, just maybe, a chance for redemption and the reclaiming of his great grandfather’s glory.

• • • • •

Wyclef — called The Bear by some — stood on the deck of the longship. Oarsmen pushed the boat along crystalline waters, the last vestiges of winter ice still clinging to the edges of the harbor into which they sailed.

A cool breeze touched his braided beard and ruffled the fur of the bearskin cloak that rode on his shoulders. The massive white-furred beast had died at Wyclef’s hands when he was 17 years old. It had given him his name. It had earned him his place in the band of brave warriors that had sought — and found — battle and glory over the ensuing years.

Though few believed the large lad would ever amount to much in the beginning, the men now looked to him with respect. While some warriors collected notches in their axes as measures of accomplishment, Wyclef would never go into battle with an imperfect blade. Still, he marked his accomplishments — with axes. A half-dozen of them were strapped to an intricate harness he wore upon his back — and these were only the ones he deemed worthy of adorning his person.

They had belonged to chieftans, battlemasters, and warriors of repute who had dared face him in single combat. With the accumulation of each blade, he took a step toward becoming who he was. Each one represented a unit of separation from the shame that had marked the start of his path.

Some men now whispered that he was descended from the line of Bulwar the Laugher, a hero of legend. He had never disputed the fact. He had merely said to each man who would say as much to him that his line was not important. His past was not important. The only path that mattered was the one he took toward the horizon.

“Are you sure you want to do this,” Oktar asked. The bald bosun had proven a steady companion in the journeys and battles that had fallen behind them like the curling wake behind the ship.

“I made a promise,” Wyclef said. “To people that are dear to me. I will journey back to the lands of my youth and find them.

“These seas have taught me what I needed. They have shown me who I am. Though I may return to them some day, my steps must now tread a different path.”

Oktar smiled a knowing smile. Mischief sparkled in his grey eyes as he elbowed Wyclef gently in the ribs and said, “There’s a woman! There’s a she-bear back in that cave you came from, isn’t there?”

Wyclef let the corner of his mouth turn up only slightly as he turned to his friend.

“She’s no bear, Oktar,” and here he broke into a larger grin, “But she’s no less deadly. No, she’s more like a scorpion, and even the mighty bear must watch where he steps around such a creature.”

“After you bed her, you will come back to us?” Oktar asked.

“Maybe, my friend. Maybe she’ll come back with me. But these lands aren’t much of a place for a scorpion.”

Hefting his huge battle axe up to his shoulder as the boat slid into the dock, Wyclef stepped off gracefully, pulling his pack up with him.

“Whether or not you see me,” Wyclef yelled down to Oktar, “tell my tale! And listen! Listen for the next chapters! They will echo out to you from my journey!”

“No doubt they will, young one!” Oktar shouted up from the boat with a wave. “No doubt they will.”

• • • • •

You can follow Wyclef’s exploits at The Obsidian Portal.

I knew I wanted my characters to be new to me, so I chose from among the Tomb of Ice selections, as well as the three promo figures I was able to pick up in Fantasy Flight Games’ annual holiday sale.

One of the two characters I ended up with was one of these promo figures: Truthseer Kel. The game we played that night was incredibly fun, and I fell in love with the Truthseer’s ability to make attacks without interference from intervening figures or obstacles. It was a huge advantage in the final confrontation with a massively powerful demon who got stuck in against the party’s tank while my Truthseer could whip flaming magic missiles from the relative safety of cover.

Once the evening’s game was over, we knew that the campaign was going to stick, and so, as we are lifelong RPG enthusiasts, we decided to flesh out our own backgrounds for the characters we had chosen and make them and their stories our own.

You can follow our campaign at The Obsidian Portal.

For now, this is the backstory of my Truthseer, a young woman of great power known as Shaida …

• • • •

Shaida - Character Art by Hugh Samples - http://hangingghost.deviantart.com

As a child, Shaida grew up the daughter of a talented huntsman, and as such lived alone with him in a wilderness cabin miles outside the village where her friends resided. Shaida never knew her mother, and was told by her father that his relationship with her mother had been a mistake, with Shaida being the lone benefit he could take away from their brief union. Shaida had always wanted to know more, but was afraid to ask. She feared the ultimate truth would be that her mother did not love her and did not want her. This thought was painful enough in her mind that she did not need to hear her father’s voice make it even more real.

Shaida coped by escaping from reality. With her friends or without, she would often journey into the woods, toting the bow her father had made for her, and pretend to be a warrior fighting for the Daqan Lords against the vile forces of Waiqar the Undying. One day, at the age of 11, having witnessed a particularly touching interaction of a mother and daughter while in town with her father, she was racked by anger and sadness. She would not listen to his attempts to console her or draw her mind away from her grief. Before the wagon had even drawn to a stop outside their house, Shaida grabbed her bow and ran crying into the woods. Even with a storm rumbling in the distance, she did not slow her wild dash deeper and deeper into the forest. Though the tempest moved in behind her like a chasing predator, she ran. The rainfall dropped out of the heavens in a flood, and more and more wildly she became one with the storm, leaping from root to root along the dense forest path and unleashing primal howls with each clap of thunder.

The earth shook, and the ground fell away.

The torrential rains had waged years worth of erosion in the forest during the mere hours as she had run, and as she leapt for the next step in her aimless path, the ground fell away to a muddy, yawning maw, and it swallowed Shaida whole.

She tumbled down into the bowels of the earth, bouncing off roots and stones and sliding wildly along a cascading torrent of mud and water. Her descent came to a jarring halt as she slammed head first into a large angular stone jutting out of the cave floor. Her temporary unconsciousness was wracked by dreams of fiery torment, of running from shadows and toward them. In the dreams her rage mounted to a blazing fury, and in this dream her fury ignited — literally —as she blossomed from tortured girl to a burning, cleansing flame.

She awoke to screams.

Around her a dozen shambling things with limpid yellow eyes wailed as a ring of fire radiated out from her and blasted them against the walls of the chamber. She watched in mystified horror as their drying, decayed flesh lit up like tinder — as their gnarled bony fingers that ended in claws reached up toward their faces as the fire devoured them. Confused, she spun and saw the stone against which she had hit her head. Upon it a strange rune was pulsing with bright orange light, beating in time, in fact, to her own hammering heart.

“It seems you have done my work for me, child,” said an oily voice emerging from the shadows. “It would also seem you have confirmed the power to be tapped in the Dragon Rune I’ve sought for so long — although I dare say it will yield even better results in the hands of someone other than a half-blood babe with a wild talent.”

The gliding, robed form stepped forward out of the shadows and reached out one hand, making a fierce clenching gesture. The flames around Shaida were snuffed in an instant and a wicked agony lit up within her. It was as if her vision was being eaten away with the death of the flames she’d somehow summoned, and the last thing she saw with the human eyes with which she had been born was the rune on the stone glowing now in a sickly green light, thrumming much slower to the control of its new master.

As her vision faded to black, she could hear the burned forms of the shambling things around the chamber knitting themselves back together, rising in a clamor of dried-leaf flesh and cracking bone. She realized with awe and terror that she could hear every leathery movement of the undying things. She could hear the slow breaths of the powerful necromancer who had just wrested control of one of the legendary Dragon Runes of Terrinoth — a control she had incredibly held briefly and unconsciously just moments before.

She also heard something else — soft steps further up the tunnel. Over the smell of burned flesh and fresh turned earth she could smell the soap her father used. She could also feel something else. Another presence, one alien and familiar at the same time. She could hear heartbeats: one, her father’s strong heart, steady and slightly accelerated in what she estimated to be a controlled anxiety. The other she recognized from a time further back — more than eleven years, back, in fact. It was the sound that all children find comfort in, and often recognize only unconsciously.

It was the sound of her mother’s heart. And the rhythm it kept was utterly unlike hers. Utterly unlike her father’s.

She realized with a start that she would never know the woman — never know what brought her together with her father so quickly to pursue their lost child. While the sudden and wondrous amplification of her senses was not something she wielded with particular expertise, she felt certain that only these two individuals had followed her. If her mother and father were detected by this necromancer, a skilled practitioner holding the power of a Dragon Rune and surrounded by a dozen undead minions, they too would suffer

The thought was unbearable.

“No!” she screamed – and reached out one open palm toward the mystical stone and with another facing the necromancer.

She was aware of the buzzing sound of loosed arrows from the tunnel and heard one thunk wetly into the hooded figure’s body while another across the room sounded like it was ripping through papier mache. As the dark conjurer bent forward in surprise and pain, Shaida could suddenly feel a blazing tide of energy pour through her and blast into him.

With a start, she realized she was seeing this happen, but not in any way she had ever seen before. She could see everything in wildly burning hues of yellow and orange — including the crouched forms of her parents who had ducked for cover behind a bend in the tunnel beyond the necromancer. She could see around the bend. And, more horrifically, as she turned to stare at the wounded magus who had managed to raise a skull-shaped shield of green energy before him, she could see a looming shadow form seemingly emanating from him — taller and more sinister than the stooped, robed form visible to the human eye.

Whatever he seemed to be on the surface, when Shaida turned her burning gaze on him, she saw only the truth. She channeled more of her fury at the man, and could feel the raging tumult of power rolling into her from the Dragon Rune. She screamed as she unleashed the wild power at him. She poured white fire into the necromancer until he was a negative image scorched onto the far wall, and she could not cap the power that now rushed wildly through her.

Ecstasy became agony as everything flared to bright white and fell away again to blackness.

• • • •

Shaida awoke in her bed to the sound of rain falling on the thatched roof above her head. She went to open her eyes, but found she could not. Rather, she found they had already been open.

Chaotically her reality conformed itself to her desire to See, and she found that she was looking upon her room with the same blazing vision she had experienced in the cave. Moreover, she was aware of something that felt like bindings all along her arms and on her chest and back. And, as she looked down (or, rather, simply guided her desire to See downward), she could see that her flesh was decorated with ornately spiraling tattoo work.

The glowing form of her father stood before her bed.

“Daddy,” she said, and the man leaned forward to rest a comforting hand upon her arm.

“Shhh, child,” he said. “You have been through much these last three days. Rest, and things will come in their time.”

“Three days?!” She gasped, “But father, what … what has happened to me?”

“That is a simple matter,” said a female voice from the next room.

With a start, Shaida realized that by simply willing it, she could see the beautiful woman moving with sinuous grace toward her bedroom. As the figure glided toward the corner, Shaida Saw a woman adorned with inkwork like that which now covered her own flesh. She Saw her mother. The vision was no less clear when the woman moved into the open doorway.

“You have come into your birthright, Truthseer.”

Time-Lapse Video Session Report
Heroscape: Battle for the Underdark
Scenario Two: Drow Ambush

The recent release of the Heroscape: Battle for the Underdark, which combines Heroscape with the Dungeons & Dragons setting and Miniatures, has encouraged my son, Harrison, and me to dust off our battle dice and turn markers and duke it out atop plastic hexes once more.

We had played through the first scenario in the included campaign Sunday night. Harrison overcame a slow start and eventually claimed an easy win after he got the idea that you have to pile abuse on a troll to overtake its rate of regeneration.

The early frames of this time-lapse video feature teardown from that session and setup for the second scenario — in which his three surviving heroes from the first dungeon chamber are ambushed by dark elves.

It should be noted that neither of us are employing much in the way of advanced tactics as we ease our way back into the game. It’s very much a “rush to the middle and fight” situation.

Optimally, with his superior range capabilities, he could make the enemy come to him and plink away at his adversaries as they crossed the table.

Similarly, I could have maneuvered to take better advantage of shadows for the dark elves’ “Hide in Shadow” ability, as well as using the stalagmites for cover from the aforementioned range attacks.

As it was, He moved his warrior up to claim the light source, supported by his priestess, while I swarmed forward with my trio of drow warriors.

I did make sure to stick to shadow and dungeon tiles to get the at least something out of their abilities, and got a couple of early licks in on the priestess before moving my troll up behind cover to hopefully finish off a couple of his heroes.

Unfortunately, I began rolling horribly, often generating only one or two skulls, even when rolling as many as five dice (when the blood frenzied troll hit the already wounded priestess).

Taking advantage of my misfortune, Harrison finished off the drow, largely behind the fire-slinging of his mage — and my troll had to be satisfied with smashing the priestess before being butchered by the broadsword wielding fighter.

Harrison’s dwarf, who won his freedom from the drow during the confusion of this ambush, discovered a defensive talisman in the waning moments. Then, the boy elected to use his one-use resurrection vial to make sure he’d have his priestess available for the upcoming third scenario.

We’re enjoying getting back into Heroscape with this new iteration. I’m appreciating the story-based campaign setup as well as the fact that this set eliminates my least favorite aspect of Heroscape — the generic, mish-mash theme.

As it is, this feels a bit like Heroquest (another of our favorites) but with the added tactical depth and arguably superior components of Heroscape. I hope WOTC has a winner on its hands here, and I suspect it may succeed in being a gateway game between Heroscape and the D&D Roleplaying franchise.

Way back in August, right as GenCon was kicking off, Fantasy Flight Games announced the upcoming release of an entirely new edition of Warhammer Fantasy RolePlay.

This wasn’t going to be your standard revision + enhancement of a time-tested, fan adored product. I don’t even know that you can call this new beast a “revamp.” It is undeniably a re-imagining of the line, and Fantasy Flight let people know from the get-go that they were going to pull out all the stops. Here is the publisher blurb released at that time:

Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay is a new, exciting way to experience the popular Warhammer Fantasy setting. It is a grim world, constantly at war. As one of the adventurers, you will take up weapon, spell, or prayer and do your best to combat the might of enemies terrifying to behold. As the Game Master, you will make the lands of the Old World real as you craft the story, the people, creatures, and the mysteries the other players will encounter during their adventures.

Everything your group needs to begin its adventures in the Old World is included in the Core set. This Core set is an excellent way to bring new players into the fold, as well as to reward experienced roleplaying with new and exciting innovations.

•4 comprehensive rule books provide all the knowledge you will need on the Old World
•36 Custom Dice give you unprecedented game depth and numerous options for story-telling
•Party sheets provide new skills and abilities to keep everyone engaged
•30 different careers and 4 different races offer a multitude of character options
•More than 300 cards keep you in the game, no need to look up skills or abilities

The real eye-opener, though, was the announced MSRP of $99.95 US.

$100, for a role playing game starter set?!?!

And so began the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

“FFG are ripoff artists!”

“WFRP 2.0 wasn’t broke! Why are they ‘fixing’ it?!?!”

First off, let me point out that while I basically disagree with virtually all of the sentiments paraphrased above, they are not completely without merit. There are some bold new concepts here. Some of them clearly have been inspired from mechanics in other types of games, with the dice in particular being somewhat reminiscent of those used in Fantasy Flight’s Descent and Doom board games.

Also, $100 is a hefty price for a game. There’s no denying that. However, there’s also no denying that FFG is packing a lot of value in that $100 box — but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The idea that FFG is abandoning a very good system in 2E is also valid. That is a justifiably well beloved game that has always successfully done what it says on the tin, delivering “A Grim World of Perilous Adventure.” It is also true that the initial marketing materials seemed to contrast sharply with the dark, doom-tinged atmosphere of WFRP, which from the first edition strove to deliver a Call of Cthulhu-meets-Fantasy feel. In particular there was language that seemed to suggest player characters would be bold, nigh-invulnerable heroes out to save the world. For all the players who still wistfully tell tales of the time their Warhammer character barely survived a mugging or a single encounter with a large rat, this was cause for outrage.

Now, with all of that being said, why am I firmly in the “I want this — NOW” camp?

Well, let’s start by responding to the arguments.

First, people who are complaining that Fantasy Flight is trying to cash in on a property they inherited from the disintegration of Black Industries are missing a couple of important points. One – When B.I. folded, there was no promise that WFRP would live on at all. When Fantasy Flight was announced to have obtained the license from Games Workshop there was much rejoicing.

Now stop for a second and read that again. Fantasy Flight acquired the license. Does anyone think that was free? How much did they invest to obtain the rights to publish WFRP, Dark Heresy, Talisman, Chaos Marauders and other games from the Games Workshop IP? Given the popularity of those titles (WFRP as a long-standing presence in the RPG world and Talisman and Dark Heresy as releases that sold out their initial B.I. production runs), you have to believe the price tag was not insubstantial. Why then, would they do it? Is it just because they loved these games so much?

No. While I believe FFG really was passionate about what they could do with these titles, they are a company. They are in business to make money. How much money could they have continued to make off of WFRP with the lion’s share of the integral manuals and supplements sold under the B.I. brand many moons back?

Were new splatbooks going to pay for their enormous outlay to GW? Clearly, they needed to print a new edition, and to make that edition attractive to gamers, new and old, they were going to have to do something new. Knowing this, it is clear that they asked themselves what they do well — and at the top of that list are these qualities: Stunning presentation, innovative resolution systems, and components that enhance the narrative.

I’m giving Fantasy Flight credit for not resting on the laurels of what Games Workshop, Hogshead Publishing, Black Industries and, indirectly, Green Ronin did before them. They decided to make WFRP theirs, and went balls out on filling that $100 box up with what they do best.

And that takes us to price. I defy any gamer who balks at an MSRP of $99.95 to look at their shelves and tell me they haven’t spent at least that much on collections of books or expansions for other games. I know my own Dark Heresy collection far outstrips that total, and while only the $50 core book is “required,” there is much of it that I could not consider doing without.

Heck, I spent about a hundred bucks on two Delta Green books that I do, in fact, consider required to play in that setting, and that doesn’t take into account the necessity of the Call of Cthulhu core book as well. Heck, D&D, which is the gold standard of RPGs, offers a fairly hefty price tag for its truly mass-produced trio of core books.

To those who play video games, you’d drop $100 on a couple of titles. And while some video games have enduring replay value, there are just as many that a player will never pick up again after “beating them.” I don’t know of a single role playing game that loses the totality of its compelling nature after a mere 40 hours of play time.

But the real argument, I think, comes from remembering where the Warhammer IP comes from in the first place: Warhammer Fantasy Battles, a money-suck of unparalleled proportions. Given the hundreds of dollars one must spend to assemble an army for the game that gave life to The Old World in the first place, what you get in the WFRP 3.0 box seems downright thrifty by comparison. I can have as much or more enjoyment pursuing adventure and intrigue in the Old World with that $100 rpg box as I can that single $300+ mid-sized army.

As to the argument that FFG’s approach is not being true to the Warhammer Fantasy RolePlay experience, I think it is important to remember a couple of things. One, the initial marketing material clearly struck the wrong cord, and doesn’t seem to reflect what Jay Little has since described in detail in his designer diaries for the game. The vaunted career system, with professions like “rat catcher,” is still there. A lethal critical hit system is still there. Everything that makes The Old World special is still lovingly detailed in the fluff of the materials that come with the core box.

Even so, the other thing that has to be mentioned is perception versus reality. Yes the Old World has a reputation as this war-torn land with dark and cosmic horror seeping through the cracks. But it’s also the setting that inspired Blood Bowl. It’s also the world of William King’s over-the-top cheesy Gotrek and Felix adventures. It’s also the IP that gives us wacky Goblin Fanatics and Shamans who blow their heads off with miscasts. For Sigmar’s sake — the Skaven Doomwheel is a giant hamster wheel for ratmen!

Now, what I’ve always liked best about the setting is the high lethality and that quasi-Lovecraftian flavor, affording a chance to play in a fantasy world in which man was not meant to know the dark, lurking secrets. I’m not arguing folks should accept that it’s a zany four-color fantasy setting comparable to old school Greyhawk or anything. I am saying: One — Tone will always be the primary responsibility of the game master and the group playing the game and: Two — There’s always been more to the Warhammer world than just the gritty John Blanche-esque darkness.

Now, for those who complain that this is basically some board game / role playing game hybrid and that the WFRP system is perfect as is, I admit that I have been a fan of the Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay setting and system since first edition. It is an excellent, streamlined system, and I was impressed by the fine-tuning Green Ronin did on the second edition. I couldn’t say that I have had complaints about the game as it has existed until now.

That being said, I’ve seen lots of mechanics and other design elements in boardgames, miniatures battle games and card games over the years that I thought could be successfully dovetailed into an RPG.

I’ve actually been playing a Descent: Road to Legend campaign with my best friend that incorporates numerous RPG elements into the game. We role play out the tavern scenes and confrontations with the “bosses” in the dungeons. We come up with all new names and back stories for our characters and really bring that narrative depth to the game. It’s a very satisfying incorporation of role playing into a board game.

Now, Fantasy Flight is flipping this, bringing elements from their incredibly successful background in board games to the tried-and-true role playing game. And after watching the videos from GenCon and reading the material on FFG’s site, I believe this will be a true RPG — It simply offers a 21st century interface and an innovative approach to components.

There’s quite a bit to be said for having all of the information on your character and their abilities in front of you in detail, without having to flip through the books for details of abilities or effects. It is also true that custom dice can do more than tell you whether or not you succeed or fail in a given check, adding more wrinkles and giving you a solid foundation for imagining and describing the entirety of the success or failure.

FFG does this exceptionally well with the dice like those in Doom, Descent and those for movement in Runebound. They are far more interesting than achieving some numerical goal, adding flavor and detail to the roll without being cumbersome.

Another element to be excited about is the attention to the “party” dynamic and having elements of play that are tied concretely to the construction and “personality” of the party. I’ve enjoyed similar devices in Exalted with Solar Circles and Ars Magica with Covenants. The idea of an innovative execution of this all-important concept is something that I, for one, am very interested in exploring.

I am unapologetically a fan of Fantasy Flight Games. I don’t love everything they’ve done, but the things I do appreciate, I am passionate about. That doesn’t change the fact that I came to the hobby through role playing and still hold that as the most sacred gaming experience. I’ve been playing Warhammer for a dozen years and that IP is something I care a great deal about as well. I could be completely wrong about all of this, but I have confidence in FFG as a company to innovate and improve upon a game I already love.

If they don’t, they sure as Hell aren’t going to break into my house and steal all of the Second Edition materials I have, which represents more than enough to go on enjoying the game as-is in perpetuity. At the very least, I’m going to wait until I see it and play WFRP Third Edition before I pass final judgment.

It might just be that the guys at Fantasy Flight know what they’re doing.

Obviously, nonstoptabletop.com is undergoing a significant overhaul. The goal is to provide a much more comprehensive site exploring the gaming hobby (primarily board games, role playing games, and the occasional miniatures battle game).

While I’m moving in, you can still see the full archive of videos and content from the past year at http://tabletop.tumblr.com.

Stay tuned!

“So,” the thief’s voice rasped out from the shadows of the dark alley, “a troll, a cultist and a swashbuckler walked into the bar —”

“Y-y-yes,” the thief admitted, stuttering. “But, I didn’t fight the farmer this time!”

Talisman: The Dungeonoffers a high-risk / high-reward alternative route to adventurers seeking conquest and glory in the world of Talisman. Rather than engage in the time-honored journey deeper toward the center of this world of peril, a player now has the opportunity to consider another path, one that offers the opportunity gain experience and power in struggles against the powerful denizens of The Dungeon. If the encounters are not fatal, these challenges will often shape the adventurers into powerful heroes, ready to test themselves in the fires of the Inner Region.

Many a questing character, though, will wade into The Dungeon merely for this crucible effect, often backtracking once they feel they’ve seen enough to test their mettle elsewhere, or when they realize they aren’t ready for what The Dungeon holds. Many adventurers who journey into the dark confines of The Dungeon have no intention of following it through to the Treasure Chamber at its end, fearful of the overwhelming might of the Lord of Darkness who lurks there.

For some, the thought of throwing down with a Strength 12 / Craft 12 demigod is not worth whatever bounty the Treasure Chamber may yield. And, while it is certainlypossible to enjoy and benefit from The Dungeon without challenging the Dark Lord, those who shy away from this conflict are missing out on a great opportunity to make a push for the Crown of Command, no matter how convincing the bout’s outcome.

It is easy to fixate on the most potent potential benefit of putting the smackdown on the Lord of Darkness: Instant teleportation to the Crown of Command. However, by no means is the chance for that devastating shortcut the only valid reward one should consider. Eking out even the slimmest victory can make almost as much difference.

Consider some of the rewards of the Treasure Chamber: A Book of Lore that not only adds +1 to the user’s Craft, but allows the bearer to draw one spell at the beginning of each turn if his or her Craft allows. Or, a Clockwork Owl that gives its owner the powerful ability to move any number of spaces up to its die roll, instead of the full distance. These kinds of items can be huge difference-makers in the final rush to the Valley of Fire.

Even if a character bests the Dark Lord by a tiny margin, the victor will still earn powerful treasure and teleport to a space in the outer region — emboldened, empowered and ready to pursue any tried-and-true means of reaching the Crown.

Now evaluate the risk of battling the Lord of Darkness: While the whole of the journey through The Dungeon is harrowing, this single combat ultimately poses no worse threat than any other. Assuming the character has at least two life left at the beginning of this battle, he will do no worse than to lose a single life and be banished to the Crags — escaping The Dungeon without having to cut through its various nasties during a retreat to the surface. Assuming the character is in possession of some sort of armor, the risk is even more mitigable.

Obviously, there are some basic tactics one should consider in using The Dungeon as a path to glory. While neophyte characters have ventured into The Dungeon and emerged as masters of battle, it is far more advisable to attain at least a couple of raises and some useful equipment before plumbing those depths. Treating The Dungeon with the same respect one reserves for the middle region, at least, will make sure that those who make it to the Lord of Darkness are likely to be in a condition to make it a fair fight. Additionally, it’s a good idea to hold on to spells or one-use items that can boost the hero’s effectiveness or diminish that of the opponent when planning to face off with the Dungeon’s master. While spells and allies can’t fight in an adventurer’s place in this challenge, a little augmentation can go a long way.

So, while some will cower and swear that only a fool would dare challenge the Lord of Darkness, it may just be that you’d be a fool not to.

Time-Lapse Video Session Report
Warhammer Fantasy Battles
2,000 pt Chaos Daemons vs Vampire Counts

Recently my cousin/life-long best friend Hugh visited for the weekend, and we managed to get in a couple of (increasingly rare) Warhammer Fantasy battles.

I fielded my newest army, Chaos Daemons (of Khorne & Tzeentch), while he unleashed a shambling horde of undead led by fearsome Vampire Counts.

In the first game (not seen here), a Lord of Change led my forces and fortune did not smile on me as one bad die roll after another sealed my fate. I watched unit after unit fall to calamity, and the deal was sealed when the Lord of Change himself was ripped into the warp on an unlikely miscast followed by snake eyes on the miscast chart.

So, it was with little hesitation that I totally changed the primary philosophy of my force, punting the Lord of Change in favor of the more straight-forward brutality of a Bloodthirster of Khorne.

Hugh’s army remained unchanged from game to game.

In the first tilt, we had terrain equally dispersed across the battlefield, including a ruined Chaos temple in the middle. As both of our armies are really about just getting to grips with the opponent, we cleared the middle of the table for the second game and decided on blind deployment, using some large game boxes to shield our deployment zones from the opponent.

Once the dividers are removed and you see our respective deployed armies at the beginning of the video, the arrayed forces are as described below.

The Chaos Daemons are on the left side of the screen. Starting with the unit closest to the camera, they are:

• 5 Flesh Hounds of Khorne, led by Karanak
• 20 Horrors of Tzeentch, led by a Changeling (my lone painted unit in this game)
• 1 BloodThirster of Khorne
• 10 Horrors of Tzeentch
• 20 Bloodletters of Khorne
• 2 Bloodcrushers of Khorne, led by a Herald of Khorne on a Juggernaut who is also the BSB (3 cavalry models total in unit)
• 5 Flamers of Tzeentch

The Vampire Counts are on the right side of the screen. Starting with the unit closest to the camera, they are

• Direwolves
• Big ol’ unit of Zombies
• Big ol’ unit of Skeletons, led by a Vampire Hero
• A Vampire Lord leading a unit of Black Knights
• A unit of Fellbats
• A unit of GraveGuard led by a Vampire Hero
• The Black Coach
• A unit of Ghouls

I won the roll for first turn and elected to let Hugh make the first move. He, of course, shuffled his host en masse toward my army.

When it came to my turn, I had a difficult choice, but elected to throw caution aside and charge the Dire Wolves with my Flesh Hounds and the Black Coach with my Bloodthirster. The greater daemon was within his charge range by just a half inch. If I had failed, it pretty much would have been the whole game right there.

As it was, my primary goal was to stop the Black Coach from charging in and ripping apart any of my units with impact hits. It had been nasty in the first game. Also, I anticipated dispatching the coach quickly and, hopefully, would find the Bloodthirster behind Hugh’s battleline where he could wreak havoc with a rear charge.

To cement this, I would bait his other units with my biggest blocks of infantry, the Bloodletters and Horrors.

In close combat, the Bloodthirster didn’t do quite enough wounds to destroy the Black Coach, but the Flesh Hounds mauled the Dire Wolves, overrunning into the unit of Zombies (where they would grind away for most of the game)

During Hugh’s turn, his Lord + Black Knights charged my block of 20 Bloodletters. His Vampire Hero + GraveGuard charged my Herald + Bloodcrushers and his Vampire Hero + Skeletons charged my large unit of Horrors.

His Ghouls shambled forward and his Fellbats moved behind my battle line. His aim, I believe, was to dispatch my Flamers with these units and then have two decent units available for rear charges.

On to close combat:

My heart sank when my best unit from the first game, the Herald + Bloodcrushers, miscalculated in the combat against the Graveguard. My herald declared a challenge, but the Vampire Hero with Killing Blow dispatched him, even doing overkill wounds on the unit, which the rest of the GraveGuard (also with killing blow) finished off. I believe the final wound may have been a failed daemonic instability check. At any rate, a great many points, around 20% of my total, went bye bye in a hurry.

I was pleasantly surprised, however, to watch my Bloodletters weather the charge from the Black Knights. I believe they lost a rank, but they stuck in there, and since the deadly charge turn was out of the way, it would be a much more fair fight from that point on. (Note, my Bloodletters are notoriously difficult to rank up, so rather than remove casualties, I marked them with a six-sided die counting out the fallen from each rank.)

Similarly, I was pleased to watch Hugh’s face when my Changeling declared a challenge against his skeletons. He knew something was afoot and accepted with his unit champion. As the changeling gets to pick and choose from his opponent’s best stats and trade with him for the fight, he easily dispatched the champion. Hugh knew his hero would have to accept the same fate or run to the back ranks to hide in the next turn. The rest of the Horrors and Skeletons just began grinding away at one another with somewhat equal degrees of ineptitude.

The Bloodthirster finished off the Black Coach and the Flesh Hounds absolutely tore through the zombies (although, frustratingly, not enough to eliminate them).

All in all, at the end of the turn, I couldn’t feel too bad, even having lost the Bloodcrushers. I had weathered his charges admirably, had an unengaged Bad MoFo Greater Daemon behind his battle line, and was looking to punk another Vampire Hero the next turn with my Changeling.

I began my next turn maneuvering in supporting charges — one from my Bloodthirster slamming into the Black Knights from the side and my smaller unit of Horrors joining their painted brethren with a flank charge against the Skeletons.

My Flamers hopped back up on their hill and tried some shooting, but that would wind up being somewhat depressingly ineffective overall.

The supporting charges were terrifically effective, with the Black Knights being dusted completely except for the Vampire Lord who led them and the Skeletons being largely butchered (mostly by combat result) after my Changeling played his dirty trick in a challenge against the Vampire Hero.

The comedic moment in this round of combat came when my unscathed Flesh Hounds continued their onslaught against the large Zombie unit but, even after combat result, found themselves engaged against a single rotter.

A single, frickin’ zombie, holding up my stupidly dangerous unit of daemonic dogs. It was maddening.

During Hugh’s turn, his Vampire Lord defiantly stood up to a half-strong unit of BloodLetters and the BloodThirster himself while the GraveGuard and Ghouls maneuvered to give support.

This frightened me more than you might think because the GraveGuard, with their killing blow ability, could get a lucky strike against the BloodThirster, putting him down despite his embarrassment of wound points.

Meanwhile, the Fellbats swooped down on the Flamers in a skirmish that would go down in legend and song as, well, a pointless sideshow with no discernible impact on the larger battle.

Ultimately, the GraveGuard and Ghouls rallied to their dark Undead Lord, but they were hopelessly overmatched against the bloodthirsty daemons of Khorne. The lucky Killing Blow never came, the Bloodthirster destroyed the Lord in a challenge and would join the Bloodletters in wiping out the pesky Ghouls and GraveGuard.

Obviously, the battle was well in hand as the Flamers would finish off the Fellbats, and the Flesh Hounds would bite the head off the lone remaining shambler and turn to position themselves to accelerate the demise of the Skeletons, who were now boringly grinding away against the units of horrors in a battle of close-combat lightweights.

At the end of the day, the cries of “Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Throne of Khorne” were bordering on, well, just bad hospitality, and we decided that with two wildly different games of Warhammer under our belts, we’d spend the rest of the weekend enjoying less competitive games of Descent, Arkham Horror and Runebound.

Still, Lord Khorne was most pleased. Most pleased indeed.

The NonstopTabletop.com Review of Space Hulk, prior to the release of the third edtion.

Second in a series exploring dungeon-crawl-themed board games, this review goes back to the future to look at the once and future Games Workshop classic.

At a Glance: High quality components, rich atmosphere, easy to learn rules make Space Hulk (in any edition) a must-have for virtually any gamer’s collection.

Reviewer’s Score: (On the Boardgamegeek.com 1-10 scale) 9.0

Designer: Richard Halliwell
Publisher: Games Workshop
Number of Players: 2 (easily adaptable to 3; less easily adaptable to 4+)
Play Time: 45 Minutes

This comprehensive review of Space Hulk (2nd Edition, with mention of 1st Edition and the just announced 3rd Edition) clocks in at just under 30 minutes. For convenience, viewers should feel free to slide the playhead forward to any of the following subtopics:

03:51 – Overview of Game Components
11:40 – Board Set-Up, Scenario Description
12:33 – Action Points & Command Points
13:16 – The Basic Strategies
13:49 – Converting Blips to Genestealers
17:15 – Marine Shooting and Going on Overwatch
21:35 – Overwatch Activation during Genestealer Turn
23:59 – An Example of Close Combat
24:59 – The Flamer in Action
27:11 – Final Evaluation