A Tale of Nagash, the First Necromancer
For a creature as old as Nagash, time moved in a strange way. He was on the battlefield again, the images jumbled in a haze. He had been so many times in the past, his auguries showed him numerous times from the future. He glanced down to size up his forces and remember where (and when) this battle was taking (or took, or will take) place. Hundreds of years of data filled his head, sorting his forces from those that opposed him on the field.
His thought sharpened considerably. A relic of power, a chest brimming with gold, had been unearthed, and his forces were streaming toward it. The gold was inconsequential, mere glitter and fleeting shine. It was what lay inside the chest, buried in the gold. A fragment of a gem which a Magister of Light had used to trap a Tomb Prince's soul long ago. The fragment would look like a scrap, like a mere broken bit of glass set in a copper necklace fitting. But its power drew Undead like a beacon--such as the enemy force that was encamped around it.
They had arrived last on the battlefield, but were the closest to the chest and the power it held. A coven of Vampires and Necromancers, their power spread out among an army of beasts of the night and the returned dead. Nagash's long gaze watched them close, seeing the way they accessed the same powerful nexus that he exploited: a Casket of Souls and a Hierotitan. Both expanded the power and magical might of the bearer. With the gem fragment hidden in the chest, these usurper Vampires would yet be able to walk free--unbent to Nagash's great will. The glimmer of independence from the fractured gem, that strong resistance to Nagash that was wedded to the Tomb Prince's very soul, gave these forces the ability to stay free from his commands. Nagash finally remembered this, and recognized his need to reach the chest and destroy the contents--as well as the drive of the ancient vampires to gain this as a tool for continued freedom.
And then, almost inconsequential to Nagash's schemes, emerged a third force. Skaven, those chittering ratmen that had caused him so much grief for so long. Nagash's mind reeled with the strength of the hate--emotion was such a living, breathing, heart-beating thing that had so long ago left his body, it was peculiar to experience it's strength. Nagash wondered why the ratmen were here, why they chose this clash between the Undead to strike.
Then he saw a cloaked and hooded figure in their midst. At first Nagash presumed it was some manner of Grey Seer, the mystical commanders of Skaven forces. And while it was hunched, its gait was hardly one that matched the skittering speed of the ratmen. Watching close, Nagash spied the telltale whorls of symbolism on this outside agent's garb, and the distinctive Shadow magic that he was producing. He realized that it was a Dark Emissary, a servant of pure Chaos and the power of the Daemon Prince Be'lakor. "What was a servant of Be'lakor doing here?" Nagash wondered, his mind drifting over the history of the prince, the one who was passed over in the ascension of Archaon, whose forces of destruction were tearing the very fabric of the Old World. What scheme could have prompted his recruiting of the Skaven by one so out-of-favor among the Chaos Gods?
Nagash also noticed the companion of the Dark Emissary, a Lammasu cloaked in sheets of magical fire. The winds of magic on the side of Skaven blew fire, shadow, ruin, and plague toward both groups of Undead, and the battle was met in fury.
Nagash watched from the edge of the battlefield while the minions of his foes clashed. Such death, such futile scrambling to triumph, leaving bodies littering the field--litter that only served to eventually empower his rule. A unit of unkempt Skaven, seemingly the most bottom-rung of their society, was prompted to assault a Mortis Engine. Nagash watched and wondered at these clashes, still unsure about the Skaven battle plan.
Nagash watched as his own forces took the assault to the enemy, with ghouls crashing into ghouls at the center of the battle. The fallen snow was littered with the last leaves of autumn when they arrived, but soon were coated in the thick splashes of purplish blood that still resided and churned within the ghouls' tepid forms.
Suddenly the earth heaved before Nagash, and out crawled three massive rat ogres with assorted whirling appendages. These Stormfiends crashed into the unit of Skeletons commanded by none other than Richter Kreugar himself. In a blink of an eye, only two remained: Kreugar and his battle standard bearer. Nagash realized that it must be an attempt at his own existence--he turned his forces around, using his command over their wills to drive a pack of raging Ghouls and his massive Hierotitan into the rear of the Stormfiends. Their attack crumbled, and the last of the massive rats fled from the field before Nagash's very feet.
He was done messing around. It was time to press these foes, deliver the pure awesomeness of his magical might to ruin their advances and crush their forces. He began casting incantations of summoning, raising whole new units from the earth. On the left flank, he willed an entire unit of nine Blood Knights into existence--their sharp lances pointed at the traitorous Undead. With them, he created a massive Terrorgheist as well, whose screaming shriek managed to crumble the usurpers' Casket of Souls into dust.
It was the Skaven who were pressing their advantage in combat, however, which worried Nagash more. His massive horde of Skeleton Archers had crumbled to the Plague Monks and their Plague Priest leader, and they were threatening his last line of defense--a band of Ghouls and his own Casket of Souls. Reaching out with magical power again, Nagash raised a huge number of swarming bats to issue from all the nearby caves and crevices, their dark wings nearly filling the sky.
As Nagash watched, the ratmen's tactics seemed to change. They were setting their forces up for bad fights, giving the enemy Undead a chance to charge parts of their battle line. A glimmer of insight started to shine in Nagash's mind: "It was a scheme. The rats were up to something. They're planning some dire trick. They're going to try another attempt on my corporeal form!"
Nagash was suddenly and painfully aware of the ratmen's advance. The Plague Monks had crashed into the Casket, destroyed it, and wound up mere feet from the form of the massive Necromancer. His will was oppressive, his form massive, and his command of magic was truly legendary. Yet somewhere deep in the core of his animated being was a drop of fear: the Skaven. The ones so capable of unbinding his form. The group that he and others overlooked, at their peril. He turned his attention to the group of Plague Monks. His Hierotitan shifted and bore its deadly gaze down on their leader, diminishing the Plague Priest into a husk of its former self with the Spirit Leech spell from the Lore of Death. The remaining Plague Monks, now leaderless, balked at charging the grand Necromancer and instead milled about right at his feet. Nagash smiled, he was sure he had defeated the Skaven plot to slay him yet again.
Just then, he turned his attention to the center of the battlefield. The Stormvermin had advanced to the middle of the clash, and quietly the Skaven Warlord had tucked the chest under his arm. He then dashed from his unit, heading as fast as he could back toward where the Skaven arrived. Nagash suddenly realized that even the Plague Monks were but a distraction. They wanted the chest. And not for the gold. Maybe if he had faced the greedy Dwarfs yet again, gold would be their objective. But the Skaven valued power and warpstone (their own currency) far more. It was some plan or plot among the Skaven, using the advice of that cursed Dark Emissary, to gather the fragmented soul gem and no doubt utilize it against him in the future.
Nagash roared with anger. The sacrificing of the smaller units, the aggressive pursuit of the Plague Monks directly at his personage, it had all been a scheme. Just a complex bait-and-switch for the Skaven to nab the goal that had been his from the start. Nagash's roar of psychic energy caused every Undead on the battlefield to stumble for a moment. The battle was over, and both warring groups of Undead had lost to the schemes of the Skaven. Nagash knew he had to take revenge--both to recover the fragmented gem as well as to retaliate for the ignominy of this defeat.
Gaming Notes
With another Triumph and Treachery game, it was time to get back to my Skaven. While I enjoy the Dwarfs well enough, I just like the sheer range of options that Skaven can provide. As usual for a game, I endeavored to finish painting some new models. While I got close to finishing a new unit of Stormfiends, they didn't get quite get all the colors on them. So the only new painting to add this time is another Packmaster and his unit of Giant Rats.
The whip is from the Orc Chariot if I recall correctly. Another set of glowing yellow eyes to unsettle foes in the dread dark of night.
It was a three-way clash of 2000 points each with 400 points of mercenaries. I went for lots of low-level casters and variety of spell lores (Ruin, Plague, Shadow, and Fire) by using my mercenaries budget to field a Dark Emissary and a Lammasu. Other than that, there wasn't too much out-of-the-ordinary for my armies: some big blocks of troops supported by smaller bands of rats, plenty of Warpfire to be thrown, and two Plagueclaw catapults.
The battle itself was entertaining. My two Undead Legions foes played very different style armies, though both with some other version of undead as their mercenaries (and hierotitans and caskets of souls). One was led by Nagash and focused on buying time and summoning spells. The other was led by a swarm of lower-level casters using buffs to make their units triumph in combat. I clashed pretty equally with both forces, though I got most of my points from units initially fielded on the Nagash side. The Stormfiends and Plague Monks did most of it together. While the Stormfiends arrived in dumb fashion (I forgot they wanted to charge, and picked a different foe on the turn they arrived), they managed to entirely crush Nagash's mercenaries: Richter Kreugar's "Cursed Company" from Dogs of War. Meanwhile the Plague Monks annihilated big, non-summoned chunks of Nagash's force including a horde of skeleton bowmen and the Casket of Souls. This was also a game where I did well in getting lots of points from winning combats and then finishing the job the next turn for the additional points--those points add up after a while, adding to my combat wins and sniping with spells and warmachines (including the Necromancer who simply could never make his "look out sir" rolls, and died to the second Warpfire shot that hit him... he took one wound and healed from the first).
Victory was sealed by my Warlord grabbing the objective and scooting out of his unit then into the eventual safety of another unit near my backfield. Skaven are quick, sneaky, and not above grabbing the opportunity to win and playing "stall and sacrifice" with their remaining forces--and Warlord Shield-Snatch decided to do the same. Was a great game, and I'm gearing up for even more clashes against the Undead: next up a massive team battle between Skaven and the Undead Legions!
Fully Painted Models
Skaven: 84
Dwarfs: 52
Battles
Total 2015: 10 (Win/Loss/Tie: 5/3/2)
Total 2014: 15 (Win/Loss/Tie: 8/6/1)
Skaven:
6 Wins (Undead 1, Empire 1, T&T Daemons and Dwarfs, Siege Dwarfs and Bretonnians, T&T Daemons and Empire, T&T Dual Undead)
7 Losses (Skaven 1, Empire 1, Dwarfs 1, Daemons 1, T&T Daemons 1, T&T Dwarfs 1, Special Game Nurgle)
1 Tie (Empire 1)
Dwarfs:
5 Wins (Dwarfs 2, Wood Elves 2, T&T Undead and Dwarfs)
1 Loss (Dark Elves 1)
1 Tie (T&T Dual Undead)
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