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Author Topic: Fhanados at the Chatswood 500  (Read 2927 times)

Offline Fhanados

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Fhanados at the Chatswood 500
« on: June 29, 2015, 04:21:27 am »
Hi All,

Long time no post. I hope someone still lurks here!

On the weekend I attended the GW run Chatswood 500 tourney in NSW Australia. I had 3 fantastic games, 2 of which were very close so I'll be posting up some battle reports sometime today. It won't be a turn-by-turn breakdown like I've done before; such small battles don't lend well to them in my opinion. Instead, I'll be posting a narrative style report with a brief summary of events at the end.

The tables were very small - only 2'x4', and players deployed along the short table edges with a 12" deployment zone. This had a few interesting effects on the game, but overall wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

Fhanados was agitated at his new commands. He knew his success in prior campaigns had been… well… not so successful, but these latest orders were an offense.

During the Cando Incident he had failed to obtain any of the native’s forbidden knowledge before the planet was blown apart and his assault on the Gosfordian Shield systems alongside Fabius Bile had resulted in the rogue apothecary refusing to work with Fhanados or his warband, which was now dwindling to nothing without the consistent re-enforcements Lord Bile could provide. He had been reduced to the role of provocateur – stirring the downtrodden rabble of backwater worlds into rebellion. He was no longer a feared warlord.

Because of this among the Word Bearers Legion his name was synonymous with failure. All the trappings of his status as a Summoner had long since evaporated. To his shame he had been ordered to return to the world of Chathaven – one of his previous failures. Not only this, the orders were received from some lowly acolyte, not from a Daemon messenger or some high ranking member of the priesthood as his previous rank would have demanded. The command was to instill disharmony in the populace and soften the Imperial forces there for the invasion of another, more capable, Word Bearers force. It was an insult that his twisted sense of honour could not tolerate!

Fhanados ran a loving hand over the iron hide of his newest acquisition and the Daemon engin seemed to purr contentedly. No, no more insults. No more failure. He would show them all his worth, and the metal beast at his side would reap a terrible toll of his enemies.

Watch this space as the adventures of Fhanados continue!

Offline Fhanados

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Re: Fhanados at the Chatswood 500
« Reply #1 on: June 30, 2015, 01:59:36 am »
Game 1 – Purging the Hive
Mission: Purge the Alien (kill points)
Opponent: Adeptus Astartes (Salamanders)
Librarian - Terminator Armour, Force Axe, Divination
Tactical Squad - 4x Marines with 1x Grav Cannon, 1 Sergeant with Power Sword, Drop Pod with deathwind missile launcher
Stormtalon - Twinlinked Assault Cannon, Twinlinked Lascannon
Vindicator - Siege Shield

Cultmaster Saren watched the Vindicator as it cleared a path through the rubble of the ruined hive of Chatswood Primus. Much to the dismay of the invaders many of the inhabitants had evacuated during the initial uprisings so casualties were disappointingly low. Now the only ones in the outer sectors of the Hive City were the rebels, the Imperial forces and, if the reports were to be believed, a number of small xenos forces.

Saren’s sect moved stealthily through the ruins, behind them stalking six hulking forms in power armour, their red armour slick and shining like spilled blood. Open warfare had been replaced by hundreds of smaller scale skirmishes and ambushes, and Saren’s Warpbringer Sect were posed to ambush the foolishly bold Salamanders vehicle. Supported by the Sorcerer and his mighty war machines how could they lose?

Suddenly an ear piercing screech shattered the still. Neither living, nor daemonic nor machine – the sound chilled Saren to the core. The two huge forms of the Forgefiend and Helbrute surged forth from the clouds of dust and debris behind him, Hades Autocannons hammering out a staccato of death towards the Astartes vehicle. Warp infused rounds punched holes through the armour and caused severe damage to the Vindicator but it responded in turn with its booming demolisher cannon.

The shot went wide, narrowly missing the cultists. They began to panic and rushed forwards into the cover of an intervening ruin. Perhaps it hadn’t noticed them? They would not be so lucky…

Fhanados shook his head in disgust. These people were cowards. They were useless. Even the spineless dogs of the Emperor would make better minions than this. Surely they would be able to overrun this one pathetic tank? Even as he gathered the powers of the Warp around him he was again interrupted. A burning comet streaked down from the sky, crashing violently into the ground in an eruption of fire and dust. Through the smoke the outline of an Astartes Drop Pod was obvious, as were the armoured figures that disembarked. More than this, the powerful psychic emanations surrounding a lone figure in Terminator Armour were as visible to the Sorcerer as night and day.

The corner of the Librarian’s mouth turned upwards in a spiteful smile.

“We’ve been expecting you Sorcerer,” the words were a psychic projection, not spoken, tinged with an uncontained malice and glowing with the self-righteous zealotry the Imperium instilled in its slaves.

Before he could respond the warrior next to him crumpled in on himself, the terrible scream of the Chaos Marine’s final agonising breath ringing in the air. Quickly Fhanados recalled the forces of the Immaterium even as he felt his armour crushing him and with a burst of white flame he vanished.

With the Sorcerer dead Aspiring Champion Konahn took command. This was his time to prove his worth. Lofting his axe he charged forward at the head of the remaining Chaos Space Marines. They bellowed a bestial war cry as they rushed towards the Salamanders Tactical Squad. Inspired by their masters the cultist sect joined the charge.

The moment battle was met was punctuated by another booming shot from the Vindicator, crippling Bother Avaris. The Helbrute roared in impotent fury, struggling to get to grips with the Salamanders in the raging melee.

A Stormtalon gunship had entered the fray, strafing the Forgefiend with Lascannon and Autocannon fire. The Daemon engin roared and returned fire, the exchange a terrifying trade of deathbringing munitions.

Konahn roared a challenge in the Dark Tongue, hoping that the Librarian would come to the fore. Instead the squads Veteran Sergeant drew his sword and stepped between the Champion and his prey. Konahn managed to deflect the Sergeants swift blows and decapitated the foolish pawn with a lumbering backswing of his great axe. Around the duel casualties built up on both sides, but Chaos had the upper hand. Victory, it seemed, was his.

Librarian Skarrun hacked down another vile traitor. His axe was slick with heretical blood. As the last power armoured assailant fell he turned on the Cultists. They had fled, and in their wake the ground was littered with the dead of his unit. None had survived. A single red-armoured enemy had survived the carnage, an axe wielding monster with armour adorned with bones. With a demeanour bordering on casual it tossed something to him. The head of Brother Sergeant Argiel rolled to a stop at his feet. Skarrun drew all the psychic force he could muster and infused himself with incredible power.

“You,” he growled “You die now.”

The Forgefiend trampled over the ruin of the Stormtalon. Daemonic resilience and unholy rate of fire had outmatched the manoeuvrability and precision of the gunship. Now it stalked the Vindicator, prowling through the ruins after its quarry. A thunderous boom and the screams of dying and fleeing cultists gave the beast all the information it needed. Just beyond the ruin lay its prey. Hades cannons began to whirr to life as the mighty Melnatron prepared to strike.

Skarrun cursed in his native Norcturne tongue as the Chaos Champion deftly evaded another attack. Even with the blessings bestowed upon him the Librarian struggled against this vicious foe. Again and again they struck at one another, warp-tainted power axe ricocheting off the pure white force weapon. The Chaos Champion ducked under the Librarian’s guard and lashed out and Skarrun felt the burning bite of tainted steel in his side. The Salamander’s Terminator armour was too cumbersome to react in time – the wound was deep. But he saw his chance.

Konahn saw the strike coming. He knew he was doomed, but he would not falter. He would not fail the legion. He leapt backwards, away from the ruin and into the open area created by the Vindicator’s bombardment. The white hot axe caught him in the chest, cleaving through his armour, bone and flesh as though it were not there. The force of the impact sent him sprawling further into the clearing. This was it. This was the end.

Skarrun strode forward into the clearing, eyes fixed on the renegade. He placed an armoured boot on the traitor’s chest and shifted his weight. Bones snapped with a sick wet crack and the Word Bearer screamed in agony. The scream tapered off to a blubbering gurgle. So pathetic was this creature that it wept at its own demise. No… that’s not right. This is not weeping. He was laughing. But why?

Finally Brother Avaris saw something to kill. He desperately wanted to crush it in his fist and feel the blood and flesh warm against his form. He wanted the hot viscera to spray his face, to taste the death. But fate had cursed him, his legs were a ruin. He could not move. But by the Dark Gods how he wanted to move! The fury built up hotter and hotter within him. Hotter and hotter within his weapon. It grew until he felt like he was going to explode and he unleashed it in a beam of terrible destruction accompanied by a barely-human roar.


Too late the Librarian realised the trap that had been sprung on him and he died in a cloud of fire and ash.

In the ruins the Daemon Engin had stalked the Vindicator to a standstill. If either one revealed themselves they would be subject to the punishing fire of the other. A daemonic spark of intellect had overcome the contraption’s bestial urge to hunt and now it remained hidden, lying in wait. Its gambit would be for nought. The squat solid Vindicator revved its engines and changed at full speed headlong into the ruin, ploughing through the wall and bringing the structure down around it. Melnatron turned to face it, but it was too late. Point blank it could not miss and this time the boom of the Demolisher Cannon was accompanied by the unholy indescribable noise reality ripping asunder as the Daemon returned to the Warp.

Salamanders: Slay the Warlord, First Blood, 4 units destroyed. Total 6pts
Word Bearers: Slay the Warlord, 3 units destroyed. Total 4pts.

Postgame thoughts
This was a really fun game. I wasn't really prepared for facing a flyer but I got lucky and it didn't end up being a problem. Likewise the Vindicator didn't hit much, but it did end up being the deciding factor that forced my Cultists to fall back off the table.

In combat my Cultists did the heavy lifting. With my Sorcerer dead from turn 1 Grav Cannon shots I thought it would be unlikely my Champion would do anything, but he managed to kill a sarge and put a wound on the Librarian - which was great! It allowed me to kill him off with a Multimelta shot from the crippled Helbrute (which was facing a really inconvenient direction).

Standout unit of the game for me was the Forgefiend. It downed the Stormtalon, pinged a point off the Vindicator and killed a marine or two (which I forgot to mention in my little story. Ah well). Most useless thing ever award goes to the Sorcerer. I thought he could at least pass one Look Out Sir! roll, but no.

Really really fun game. Really nice opponent and even though I was off to a rocky start things didn't turn out as bad as I thought they would, so good game!

Saren and what was left of the Warpbringer sect finally stopped running. For some daft reason he had thought to challenge the Librarian, and was brushed aside as though he weren’t even there. He doubted the Astartes even noticed the challenge. Scant few of them had survived the melee. Despite bringing down the Salamanders they saw no chance of victory, and without the Sorcerer watching their every move what time was better than now?

At that moment one of his fellow cultists collapsed to the ground in a fountain of blood. It was a horrifying, unnatural death. A familiar one that left Saren cold to his very soul. The blood pooled and began to bubble. Slowly an armoured figure grew from the crimson pool and Fhanados stood before them once again.

“Ah! Dear Saren. So glad we could… encounter… one another like this.”

“You… you were dead?” Saren stuttered.

“Not quite, my malevolent little minion. Now, turn your little band of rebels around and go back to where we came from.”

“But why my lord?”

“Brother Avaris is lonely and the Melnatron is missing some parts. Come. We have work to do before the others arrive.”
« Last Edit: June 30, 2015, 03:34:25 am by Fhanados »

Offline BigToof

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Re: Fhanados at the Chatswood 500
« Reply #2 on: June 30, 2015, 01:46:25 pm »
Awesome to see a great set of reports!
+1 karma and hope to see more :)


P.S.  What are you running?  Didn't see a list...
BigToof Points:

Cammerz: 8
Waaaghpower: 1
The Man They Call Jayne: 3
Mabbz: 6
Archon Sharrek: 3

Offline Mabbz

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Re: Fhanados at the Chatswood 500
« Reply #3 on: June 30, 2015, 10:09:27 pm »
An excellent read. I look forward to game two.

Offline Fhanados

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Re: Fhanados at the Chatswood 500
« Reply #4 on: July 01, 2015, 03:01:56 am »
Game 2 – Truth of the Word
Mission: The Relic
Opponent: Chaos Space Marines (Word Bearers)
Chaos Lord: Power Sword, Sigil of Corruption
Chaos Space Marines: 9x Chaos Marines, 1x Meltagun, 1x Heavy Bolter, Extra Close Combat Weapon, 1x Champion with Power Axe, Veterans of the Long War for the unit.
Chaos Cultists: 20x Chaos Cultists with a mix of autoguns and pistols, 1x Flamer.
Helbrute: Multimelta and Power Fist

Fhanados could barely make out the distinctive outline of the Warmonger on the horizon. His rival had arrived. The Chaos Lord had more soldiers at his disposal, having “recruited” many of Fhanados’ own cultists following the encounter with the Salamanders and he had brought with him a number of battle hardened veterans, while Fhanados was left with what amounted to augmented fodder with no training, ill maintained armour and a single plasma gun to share among them which had to be salvaged from the battlefield after the unlucky Marine was eventually disintegrated by the malfunctioning device.

He had one thing that his foe did not – the mighty Daemon Engin had been reborn. The effort of recalling the evil spirit that inhabited the machine from the Warp had left him exhausted, but luckily the dark powers that fuelled it had completed the regeneration process without him and the creature was once again ready for battle.

“My lord,” Saren spoke with a meekness that Fhanados had grown weary of “Should we really be fighting against our own? Would we not be better off adding our strength to theirs for the greater glory of Chaos?”

“You know nothing of the politics of the Legion. To properly serve Chaos we must first assert our dominance. Once my rank is restored THEN we will conquer in the name of the Gods.”

It was by no means a rousing speech, but something about the Sorcerer’s words filled Saren with a previously unknown vigour. Was it courage perhaps? Even as he saw the enemy approaching the armoured battlement before them he felt no trepidation, only a longing to kill them all.

“Charge forth my minions!” the Sorcerer cried. And charge forth they did.

Fhanados rushed forwards behind the fanatical cultists. All it took was a subtle telepathic manipulation to bolster their mental fortitude. Yes, they would all charge forward to their deaths in the killing fields before the wall and he would retrieve the book and retreat to safety. Nothing would stop him this time. He would restore his rank and his name would invoke fear among the legion once more.

Enemy cultists swarmed the wall, some meeting their end as the Melnatron showered the battlements in warp tainted firepower. Marching forward from the flank the Veterans of the Long War emerged, unloading their bolters into the Warpbringer Sect and killing most in the first volley of fire. The Warmonger strode forth and it was as though the burning hells of Khorne spilled into realspace as Brother Avaris exchanged melta fire with the fearsome Dreadnaught, although neither fell to the onslaught.

Fhanados sought to draw the power of the warp to him to bolster what was left of the cultists but the swirling tides of the empyrean rebelled. He staggered back, a sharp pain piercing his skull and a voice that reverberated through his very soul “YOU WILL FAIL”. His mind clouded and he found he was unable to conjure any more power. The warp was failing him. Before he could right himself he was thrown off his feet as bolter fire raked the line again, heavy bolter rounds slamming into his power armour. He felt his armour sag and go lifeless as the power pack failed. His vision flickered and went dull, the display projected across his visor vanished and the world went silent within his helmet.

The ground shook with the Warmonger’s heavy footsteps as it charged through the inferno of the combined melta fire of both war machines. Brother Avaris moved to react but was too slow. The momentum of the Warmonger brought it crashing into the Helbrute, sending him lurching backwards. The Chaos Dreadnaught’s superior manufacture and weapons gave it the upper hand, but Avaris was not going to die easily. The two warmachines exchanged titanic blows but ultimately it was a one sided affair. The Warmonger brought it’s gigantic chainsword down, severing Avaris’ combat arm and with another sweep the whirring blades ruined the fallen Helbrute’s multimelta and smashed it’s already damaged leg. The warmonger looked down in contempt at the inferior construct then strode away leaving Avaris alive. It looked towards the fortified hill where the Forgefiend lurked. Perhaps there would be a worthy foe.

Bellowing a challenge to the enemy, the new Aspiring Champion who had donned Konahn’s armour led the few Chaos Space Marines at his disposal headlong into the opposing force. The reactive fire from the enemy brought down several of his brothers but it mattered not. His challenge was met by the opposing champion. This would be a battle for supremacy – the victor would lead the Veterans and be praised by their Lord. Both champions rushed towards one another, power axes held high. Both roared in elation as battle was met. Both fell to the ground, the axe of the other embedded in their torso. Both were corpses. Both had failed.

As the Word Bearers of the opposing force finished off their bloody work slaughtering Fhanados’ remaining soldiers, the Lord leapt down from the wall and picked up the prize he sought. A book. Not any book however, a copy of the Book of Lorgar. One that had been extensively added to by an experienced summoner. With this the world would fall, and it would fall thanks to him! He turned to walk away, leaving the rest of the legwork to the Cultists and his Space Marines but he noticed something moving beneath the pile of corpses. He dimly sensed a psychic emanation, weak but slowly growing. The Sorcerer yet lived.

“Bring the Summoner,” he commanded to his Word Bearers. “We have a special job for him.”

Before they could act another burst of fire from the Daemon Engine’s Hades Autocannon strafed their lines, this time targeting the Chaos Space Marines. They turned to see the source - the Forgefiend had leapt down from its position and charged towards them, brushing aside the bullet riddled ruined hulk of the Warmonger. The Chaos Marines were quick to react, a Melta blast hitting the beast square in the chest stalling its charge. Taking advantage of the brief respite the remaining veterans pulled the pins on their Krak grenades and targeted the weak points around the beast’s legs. The trademarked crack noise of the grenades imploding were followed by an monstrous crash and the beast fell to the ground. It was still, but its eyes still glowed with unholy fury.

“Allow me,” said the Chaos Lord, and he began to read aloud from the Book. The Daemon would obey.

This game was amazingly fun. The player was awesome and laid back and the army was fantastically painted, putting all my half painted stuff to shame. He ended up going on to win the tournament, and I honestly think that our game gave him that 1 extra point he needed to beat second place. I won't go into too much detail because I deliberately made a LOT of tactically terrible decisions for the sake of fun. A few notable events:
  • Sorcerer failed some more Look Out Sir! rolls and got killed by a snapshooting heavy bolter
  • The two Helbrutes fought a round or two of combat. I lost  :(
  • We both used the exact same model for our unit champions, so naturally I had to ensure they challenged one another. I basically sacrificed all my troops to accomplish this and in the end both champions killed each other at the same time.
  • The Forgefiend killed a bunch of infantry and the Helbrute and was killed because it failed a charge near the end of the game.

Fhanados cursed in his native tongue. He had not spoken it for nearly a decade as the Book of Lorgar translated to it poorly, but now it felt natural. For cursing at least. His sect was dead to the last man. Avaris had survived and was repaired as a reminder of the eternal torment that awaited failure. The Melnatron had also been restored, but the Daemon within no longer obeyed him. It was his warden, watching him. Keeping guard. Keeping him prisoner.

The Rhino transport column drew to a halt. “This is your stop Sorcerer,” spat the driver. “Enjoy your execution.”

Offline Fhanados

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Re: Fhanados at the Chatswood 500
« Reply #5 on: July 07, 2015, 05:25:35 am »
Game 3 - Execution
Mission: The Emperor's Will
Opponent: Tau
Battlesuit commander with markerlight drones and some other stuff
Fire Warriors (about 20 I think?)
Kroot (16ish)
Broadside with heaps of missiles

They had reached the outskirts of the Hive – verdant green plains extended into the distance punctuated by the occasional ruin or battlefield. Monuments of pre-imperial society were common out here; unlike on most worlds the old faith was not purged by the Imperium, it was similar enough to the Imperial Creed that it was adapted by the Ecclesiarchy and its symbology took on new meaning – venerating the God-Emperor of mankind instead of some pagan deity. It was one such monument that the small town of Venn’s Watch had sprung up around. A stone tower bearing the markings of the old gods was flanked by the ruined edifices of Imperial buildings. Through a gap in the crumbling structure Fhanados watched the Tau deploy.

His orders were clear and simple – capture the Tau device. The implications of the orders were clearer still – die for your failures.

Ranks of Firewarriors had lined the windows of the ruined building opposite the Chaos forces. An Ethereal stood atop the roof in plain view, his droning  alien oratory travelling clearly across the battlefield. On the ground floor a commander encased in a heavy battlesuit relayed commands and tactical information to the soldiers, and out to their flank a second, much bulkier battlesuit sporting several missile systems. Fhanados knew this was a hopeless quest. It was not so much suicide as it was an execution.

He would not be resigned to such an inglorious fate. Drawing the powers of the Warp to him once more he stepped out into the open and issued his command.

“Kill them all.”

Shas’Ui Shiarn reeled from the Chaos onslaught. A hail of daemonic bolts from the Forgefiend slammed into the Broadside battlesuit. Warnings screeched in his ears and the display flared red. A quick status check run after the punishment had subsided revealed minimal damage – some armour plating had been shattered and minor auxiliary systems were offline. Nothing to worry about. Shiarn dismissed the warning messages and engaged his targeting system. This beast was going down.

Fhanados and the few remaining Traitor Marines ran towards the stone tower. If they could make it there and establish a foothold closer to the Tau battle line they would be on even footing. Out in the open like this they were vulnerable. Brother Avaris charged past them howling his terrible warcry.  As the mighty Helbrute made its way around the side of the tower it’s warcry was drowned out by pulse rifle fire. A mighty explosion rocked the tower and a shattered and bloody hulk was all that remained of the beast. At last his torment had ended.

Pity, thought the Sorcerer. I could have used him.

The Word Bearers had almost reached the foot of the tower. Fhanados saw victory in his grasp – once there he would have a clear view of the Tau’s Ethereal leader and this close the foolish creature had no hope of resisting the Sorcerer’s Psychic might. With the Ethereal dead, the rest of the army would crumble in despair.

Sudden gunfire rained down on the Word Bearers, the sheer quantity of shots finding weaknesses in the Space Marine’s formidable Power Armour – piercing joints, cutting power leads and shattering helmet lenses. The Kroot atop the tower squawked and raised their guns in the air, chanting a victory cry. Fhanados alone stood alive as the dust cleared. Fury burned within him, his very soul ablaze with hatred normally reserved for Loyalist dogs. All reason, logic and strategy evaporated. The air around him rippled and reality bent. With a violent slash of his burning sword he rent a hole through the very fabric of the material world and stepped into the swirling nether beyond. The Kroot looked on in confusion as the tear healed and the Sorcerer had vanished. With their quarry gone they readied their weapons and took aim at the Daemon engin below.

The Broadside unleashed another frantic volley of missiles at the rampaging Forgefiend and stepped back. Blasts erupted across the armoured surface of the Daemonic construct, flinging twisted hunks of tainted metal in all directions and revealing the creature’s glowing core. It was heavily damaged and had endured multiple barrages but still surged forwards through the smoke and ruin desperate to get to grips with Shiarn. Despite his suit’s durability he doubted he would emerge victorious against the beast. Another volley from its remaining Hades Autocannon raked his armour, this time doing nothing of note. His helmet display flashed green – the missile pods were ready to fire again.

Fhanados broke back through the barrier of realspace, a storm of violence bursting into reality atop the tower. The Kroot stood no chance. The Sorcerer’s burning blade fell again and again, each swipe cutting down another of the panicked xenos. Even when none remained his fury did not abate. The tower trembled with his wrath, stones bubbling and twisting as the Warp bled out into the material realm, the hacked and burned corpses of the alien filth drifted slowly into the air as gravity itself failed. The surge of psychic power deafened Fhanados to the outside world. He did not hear the Ethereal’s rousing speech condemning the unnatural powers that swelled before him. He did not hear the Tau Commander’s orders. He did not hear the din of pulse rifle fire. He barely felt the bolts of energy that tore through his armour and ruined his body. For the first time ever he saw oblivion’s true form and even as his soul left his body to drift in the ether he knew his Gods were true. And it was terrifying.

Shiarn had a moment’s respite from the Forgefiend’s onslaught. The Chaos atop the tower had drawn its attention; the beast was curiously drawn to the anomaly. As quickly as it was conjured it dissipated with a withering blast of pulse rifle fire from the Fire Warrior team. Whatever it was, once more the superior technology of the Greater Good triumphed. He was low on munitions now and had to make these last shots count. The beast slowly turned to him, as though just now remembering its prey existed. Calmly Shiarn levelled the Broadside’s weapons at the damaged fiend and fired.  Mont’au would not claim this world today.

This game wasn't so much fun but my opponent was a pleasant chap. We had some discussion about attacking the building, but since there's not really a generic "building" profile in the rulebook (it just says to refer to the building's data sheet - which didn't exist) we treated it as ruins. I made a cool 12" charge to get to the Kroot up top and wiped them out with a sweeping advance before being pulse rifled off the board. The Forgefiend spent the game trying to down the broadside, and made a stupid amount of 5+ invulnerable saves and It Will Not Die rolls. Other than that I just got blown away as I moved forwards.

So with my final defeat I secured my place at the bottom of the ladder (although not officially stated, I'm the only person I spoke to who lost all 3 games). My friend Chris secured second place, and in first was the other Word Bearer's player from game 2! I was really happy for the guy. He's a new player with a well painted army and a really fun attitude towards the game. Well done to the fella!

For me, I'll be retiring my Sorcerer and trying some new things. I'm looking at getting some daemons for allies or even trying out Daemonkin, but we'll see how well I go over the next few months before I invest in that. For now I have more than enough Chaos Space Marines to paint and maybe with some nice models on the table I'll do better!

Chathaven had fallen. The whole system was now under control of the Word Bearers Legion - no thanks to the efforts of Fhanados however. It mattered not, the Imperium had been crushed and Tau driven out of the system. From this new empire of bloodshed and havoc a warlord would rise to take the Summoner's place and start a new crusade of terror among the stars