[40K Battle Report] – The Perfect Storm

The Black Planet, 4182013.M41
External Planetary Monitor Derv was concerned – not a state of mind to which he was accustomed, in all honesty. The job of External Planetary Monitor was not, in general, one that required a great deal of concern, or indeed concentration; by and large, the job did itself, the ancient computers ticking off incoming and outgoing vessels against flight plans and manifests, and displaying alerts on the Monitors’ monitors on the rare occasions when something didn’t tally. Derv would dutifully forward these alerts to the Navy Yeomanry Planetary Defenders, the Black Planet League of Merchant Venturers, and His Imperial Majesty’s Galactic Internal Taxation Subdivision – unread, of course, since the penalty for tampering with taxation records was too fearsome to contemplate – and then go back to occupying his time in some other fashion.

Nevertheless, he was concerned, and said so.

“Moon’s gone a funny colour.”

Derv’s immediate colleague, Torq, emitted a vaguely interested, vaguely dismissive, vaguely responsive grunt, and returned his attention to the screen in front of him.

“You’re not going to look, then?”

Another grunt. This one managed to convey irritation, a mild personal contempt for Derv himself, and a deep-seated wish that Derv would clear off and leave him, Torq, to his vitally important duties.

“Stop playing Dark Millennium and look, you slag.”

Having exhausted the possibilities of grunting, or expended his expressive capabilities in the medium too soon – a peril confronting all early-blooming geniuses – Torq thumped the monitor, called it a brainless son of a fragbunny, did the same to his controls, and then finally turned to look at Derv.

“Well, I’m dead now, and we’ve lost Armageddon. I hope you’re happy. That’s three weeks of dedicated grinding down the tube, thanks to you.”

“Shut up and look at the moon, Torq.”

“Which one? Coalfield?”

“No, the little one.”

“What, Solidhull?”

“No, the really little one.”

“That’s not a moon, is it? That’s spacejunk. Has to be.”

“Torq, spacejunk is small. Wulfruna is far away. We’ve been through this.”

“Why’s it green?”

Derv sighed, and gently laid his face in his palm. “It isn’t. Usually.”

“Think we should report it?”

“That’s what I was asking!”

“Well, take some initiative and do it and don’t bother me when I’m in the middle of a twenty thousand player kill-fest again, all right? You’ve got no sense of what’s important, that’s your trouble.”

Derv reflected on this as he typed up a brief report, enclosed a series of grainy, poor-quality images, and punched in the commands that would send his message not down the usual sub-aether channels, but directly to Naval Astrotelepathic Regional Command. Torq had said the same thing when they’d been raided by eldar pirates the year before, of course. Not that he’d noticed. He’d been too busy fighting the Battle of Ichar IV on his monitor to notice the war going on outside his window. Not for the first time, Derv contemplated an intervention, before deciding – as usual – that it probably wasn’t worth the months of complaining that were bound to result.

Over the next six months, Derv’s barely-literate description of events, along with some of the worst examples of stellar photography the Imperium had ever seen, was passed like an unwanted takeway through NARC, back to NYPD as a strictly internal matter of no interplanetary interest, briefly through the dark and foetid halls of GITS where it had been sequestered as a cover for tax evasion, back to NYPD to be stamped as clean, back to NARC for transmission as a matter for the Explorator fleets rather than planetary defence, and finally, reluctantly, hurled into the galaxy at large for any passing explorer to wrap their grubby mitts around it.

The Explorator vessel which did eventually pick up the message and make a brief stop above Wulfruna spent a grand total of thirty-two seconds in low orbit before being struck by what its final transmission described as a hissing column of pure black oblivion, attended by an all-frequencies broadcast of indecipherable machine code which the Explorators had initially mistaken for the latest release by the ‘popular’ ‘experimental’ ‘technical noise producers’ Standard Template Deconstruction, and naturally switched off.

A further three months passed as the transmission was assessed, examined, standardised, verified, appended to a heavily-annotated copy of Derv’s report, and finally released to the galactic aether at large as the most bureaucratically correct distress call in recent history. It was at that point that the Hawk Lords Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes got hold of it, and decided to do something useful.

Another college holiday means another chance to troop up to the West Midlands with my Necrons in tow, and another chance to line them up in front of Ben’s assorted armies and see how much damage we can do before the game inevitably times out on the fifth turn. The slightly ad hoc nature of this trip meant I’d just grabbed absolutely everything and lugged it onto the coach; this turned out to be all right, as Ben had both a Night Scythe to surrender as belated Christmas tribute, and a 2000 point Hawk Lords (purple-coloured vanilla-flavoured Space Marines (TM)) list he wanted to try out. Apparently he’s bored with keeping track of pain tokens and never getting to roll any armour saves, and so has dug his formerly all-conquering Space Marines (TM), which have the added bonus of being closer to fully painted than his Dark Eldar.

Since we have the luxury of time on our sides for these games, they tend to be quite leisurely affairs, in which rules are checked, discussed and followed fairly accurately, and in which various aspects of the game are singled out as Learning Experiences. In this case, there were three things we wanted to learn about. First was, of course, the Flyer rules, since Ben’s Razorwing hasn’t come out to play since fifth edition and the only flying I’ve ever done involves Fell Bats and Winged Nightmares rather than anything with an engine. Second was the Psychic Powers. I play Necrons, Ben plays Dark Eldar, neither of us ordinarily get to lay hands on any whizzes, pops or bangs from the fevered brains of witches, mutants and other neurologically-advanced folks. I still wouldn’t, but Ben resolved to bung a Librarian into his list and see what all the fuss was about. Thirdly and finally, there was the small matter of the Relic mission, which I usually re-roll if it comes up of a Thursday night because, frankly, after my hardest working day, what I want is a nice quick quiet game and not a fartaround. Nevertheless, I figure it can’t be that hard; once I’ve played it once I’ll get it.

Anyway. Those armies.

Von’s Crons

HQ – Nemesor Tekeshi – Necron Overlord with warscythe and phase shifter
Catacomb Command Barge – Tesla cannon
Royal Court – Necron Lord with warscythe and sempiternal weave, 3 Harbingers of Destruction

HQ – Vargard Koschei – Necron Overlord with warscythe, sempiternal weave and resurrection orb
Royal Court – Necron Lord with warscythe and sempiternal weave, Harbinger of the Storm

Troops – 12 Necron Warriors (both Lords go in here)
Night Scythe

Troops – 10 Necron Warriors (1 Harbinger of Destruction goes in here)

Troops – 10 Necron Warriors (1 Harbinger of Destruction goes in here)

Troops – 10 Necron Warriors (1 Harbinger of Destruction goes in here)

Elites – 5 Lychguard with hyperphase sword and dispersion shield (Koschei and the Harbinger of the Storm go in here)

Fast Attack – 5 Destroyers

Fast Attack – 5 Tomb Blades with Tesla carbines

Fast Attack – 3 Canoptek Wraiths

Heavy Support – Annihilation Barge with tesla cannon

The plan is a simple plan. As usual, the footslogging Warriors cower on the edge of midfield in whatever cover presents itself; if required to advance and deploy further Gauss shots in the general direction of the enemy, they do so behind a wall of Lychguard (plus Resurrection Orb and models who can actually hurt things) and Wraiths. That first wave will also be going for the Relic in this scenario, though I didn’t plan the list especially for the mission or anything rude like that. Anyway, the Destroyers are there to point, click and delete small Space Marine (TM) squads, especially small Space Marine (TM) squads with AP4 or better weaponry in abundance, the Tomb Blades to strafe and finish off odd survivors, the Barge to target flyers as a priority (okay, so it needs sixes to hit, but each six is three hits, and it’s twin-linked to boot) and the Night Scythe to drop its cargo of Warriors and angry Lords off somewhere where they’ll be useful and then go dogfighting.

Ben’s Purple-Painted Poultry-Paragon Pigeon Punishers

HQ – Captain Talassar Kaine – Pedro Kantor counts-as

HQ – Cathartes Aura – Librarian with Terminator Armour (force axe)

Troops – Tactical Squad – 10 Marines, 1 meltagun, Sergeant with power sword

Troops – Tactical Squad – 10 Marines, 1 meltagun, Sergeant with power sword

Troops – Tactical Squad – 10 Marines, 1 meltagun, Sergeant with power sword (Kaine goes here)

Elites – 5 Terminators – assault cannon (Aura goes here)

Elites – Chapter Master Tobias Lombardi – Ironclad Dreadnought with assault launchers 

Elites – 5 Sternguard

Fast Attack – Stormtalon (escorting Mortis Pullum)

Heavy Support – Mortis Pullum – Stormraven (Kaine’s squad goes in here, as does Lombardi)

Heavy Support – Devastator Squad – 10 Marines in 2 combat squads. 1 squad has the Sergeant and 2 heavy bolters; 1 squad has 2 plasma cannons.

Ben’s devilish cunning has tied a moderately fearsome counter-assault element, a heavy flier, a light flier, a scoring unit and a walking buff character to a single reserve roll, which slingshots in where the Victory Points are, picks up the two Tactical Squads on the ground, and sort of… grinds forward, rolling lots of attacks and firing lots of bolters. The list is not what I’d call strictly optimal, what with the passing up on free heavy weapons and the interesting choice of Sternguard, but Ben’s an old hand at this Space Marine (TM) business and I’ve seen him spin straw into gold before now. The sheer number of 3+ saves he has wandering around made me a bit leery about getting the objective off them if he managed to bury it in the heart of that Tactical brick, so seizing the Relic early on and getting it away from his footsloggers became something of a priority.

Mission – The Relic
Deployment – Vanguard Strike
Warlords and Traits – 
Tekeshi (Tenacity) and Talassar Kaine (The Dust of a Thousand Worlds)
Psychic Powers – Cathartes Aura – Biomancy – Life Leech, Enfeeble


Ben deployed first and retained the Initiative. I was slightly perplexed to see his plasma cannon Devastators up front, though perhaps he wanted to avoid handing out cover saves for shooting through his own men; I was slightly relieved, meanwhile, to see the Terminators off on a flank where I could stay out of their way, or at least feed them something designed to be sacrificial and stodgy, like the Wraiths. The Sternguard might be a bit of a worry too, after Ben revealed just how flexible those naughty bolters of theirs can be. In fact, I was seeing a lot of AP4 on the board already, and the knowledge that a Stormtalon was waiting in reserve did not comfort me.

I set up the traditional Warrior phalanx – a very slight crescent which focuses its fire onto anything that ends up in the middle, and lurks in cover unless the opponent refuses to oblige me by moving to within 12″ of my guns. In such cases, the Lychguard and Wraiths spearhead an advance, offering their Invulnerable Saves to absorb fire and their mere presence to provide Cover Saves to the Warriors behind. I set up the various Tesla units on my right flank, theorising that the plasma cannon Devastators wouldn’t be terribly hard pickings, and I slapped Tekeshi down with them, with the intention of chewing through the outermost Tactical squad and making a run for the objective later in the game. The Annihilation Barge would similarly divert its attentions once I knew where Ben’s flyers would end up, while having the length of a long board edge to play with meant I was quietly confident of lining the Scythe up against something useful. The Destroyers, meanwhile, lurked behind the Warrior crescent – they would be pointing themselves at some Devastators as soon as possible, but I wanted a turn of cover saves for them before I put their metal lives on the line.

Naturally, I failed to Seize the Initiative.

Round One


The Space Marines (TM) fanned out ever-so-slightly, with the Terminators, Sternguard and outflung Tactical Squad all making cautious advance-like motions. Ben informed me that I would hate him for what he was about to do, and he wasn’t wrong; an Orbital Strike was called down. Now, I’m not complaining here or anything, since my HQs are good, but they’re not so good that they can drop a S10 AP1 Ordnance Large Blast anywhere they can see.

Quite rightly, Ben views this as an early-game ‘get the opponent on the back foot first thing’ option, and while he was tempted to land it squarely in the middle of the Warrior phalanx, the knowledge that my Barge was the only ground unit which could realistically touch his flyers won him over and he plonked it on the vehicles instead. When the dust had settled, the Annihilation Barge was miraculously unscathed (double ones on the Penetration roll, ho hee) and Tekeshi had sacrificed a Wound to keep her Command Barge mobile, although two Tomb Blades and two Warriors lay dead. A corresponding round of stern plasma and heavy bolter fire dropped two more Warriors, two Lychguard, and put a Wound on Koschei. Aura cast Enfeeble on the Wraiths, and the Sternguard and Terminators ganged up to blow a hole in one and reduce another to crater status. Alas for Ben, the Resurrection Orb proved its worth and both the Lychguard lurched to their feet, although nothing else seemed inclined to join them.

The surviving Wraiths hovered forward and laid hands on the Relic, while the Lychguard moved and then ran into midfield, establishing the kill zone betwixt themselves and the Necron Warriors. The Destroyers moved forward and strafed the Devastators nearest them, joined by the Annihilation Barge, which killed a Tactical Marine with its lightning arc, and the Tomb Blades; between all that Gauss and Tesla, the Devastators lay dead, and I was one point up with my claws into the Relic. Good start, I think!

Round Two – Necrons 1, Space Marines (TM) 0
Relic Possession – Necrons


The Reserves un-Reserved and tore onto the middle of the board, with the Stormraven in the lead and the Stormtalon bobbing after it. A mass disembarkation followed, with Captain Kaine and his Tactical chums landing in the centre and forming the brick I’d been so dreading, and Lombardi being flung from his Dreadnought clamp to land squarely in front of the Wraiths and, more troublingly, the Destroyers. Aura, meanwhile, frustrated by the Lychguards’ refusal to stay down, cast Enfeeble on those this turn.

The Sternguard and Devastators ripped through what was left of the Wraiths, and the hail of shots from the Space Marine (TM) fliers dropped three Warriors and Exploded Tekeshi’s Command Barge, to little other effect. The rest of the Space Marines (TM) sunk every shot they had into the Lychguard, knocking them all down and slapping a wound on Koschei into the bargain. Fortunately, they were one wound short of wiping out the whole squad (I love Crypteks) and two Lychguard Reanimated themselves back into the fray. Alas, that wasn’t enough to protect my poor Destroyers from wandering Dreadnoughts – Lombardi angled his descent, skidded straight through the wreckage of the Wraiths, grabbed the Relic, and smacked a Destroyer with his hammer for good measure.


That… wasn’t good. Though Our Weapons Are Useless (there’s Mat Ward’s love of Dark Omen again, you notice) was always an option, I wasn’t banking on the Destroyers’ ability to outrun an Initiative 4 Dreadnought when they fled, and if I lost them, I’d lose my only AP3 weaponry. Instead, I elected to leave them where they were and forfeit a turn of shooting in the hope of freeing them up on my turn and having them around for the rest of the game.


Fortunately, my Night Scythe turned up, and – after some minor brouhaha involving the difference between a long board edge and a deployment zone – was deemed able to arrive behind the Space Marines (TM), lining up its guns on the Stormtalon (I wanted the other one, but there was no way I’d be able to line up the shot and still have anywhere safe to put my Scythe’s giant base). The various Tesla units advanced to bring the Stormraven into their range, while Koschei ploughed on, rearranging his unit so he’d be able to charge Lombardi and retrieve the Relic.

My Annihilation Barge landed three hits on the Stormraven (told you Tesla was good), which Ben elected to Jink against; probably a good call too, as two penetrated its armour. One was Jink-saved, and the other came up… Crew Shaken. Can only fire Snap Shots. Whoop-de-doo, that’s all it was going to do anyway. Still a Hull Point though. The Night Scythe similarly landed three hits on the Stormtalon – one was Jinked, but the two glancing hits were enough to strip away its scanty Hull Points and send it crashing to the ground behind the Devastators. The rest of my shooting was less effective; a lone Tactical Marine who’d been enjoying the view from the mysterious dolmen arches, nothing at all on the Sternguard despite half my army shooting at them, and everything the airdropped Warriors managed to do to the Stormraven was cheerfully Jinked away. In retrospect, shooting the Devastators or even the Terminators might have been a better plan, but you live and learn…

In the Assault Phase, meanwhile, the Lychguard ploughed into Lombardi, who failed to hit with a single attack and got carved into tiny bits by Koschei, freeing the Destroyers up to consolidate away from the Space Marine (TM) lines and the Lychguard to move onto and secure the Relic.


Round Three – Necrons 1, Space Marines (TM) 0
Relic Possession – Necrons

Various Space Marines (TM) shuffled to improve their fire lanes, while Aura Enfeebled the Warriors behind the Space Marine (TM) lines and led his Terminators in a waddle toward the offending mechanoids. The Stormraven turned hard right and dove for the board edge, intending (so Ben claims) on a tight square which would enable it to stay on the board for two more turns and snipe at the Night Scythe with its turrets.

Unfortunately, the Machine Spirit proved a less than capable shot, landing only one lascannon hit, which I successfully Jinked away. The Space Marines (TM) were more successful on the ground, sinking a hail of bolts in various sizes into the Warriors and stripping them off the board, with the final kills on Necron Lords being claimed by Kaine and the Terminators’ assault cannon.


The one Tactical Squad that couldn’t see the Warriors shot at the Lychguard instead, downing two and causing them to drop the Relic – and one, true to form, stood up.

Without the luxury of turret weapons, there wasn’t really anything the Night Scythe could contribute to my turn, so I sent it off the board at Cruising Speed with orders to return next turn from a more sensible position. The Lychguard and Annihilation Barge gave chase to the Stormraven, which had helpfully pointed its rear armour at them (not that it matters for AV12 all round fliers, but the prospect of shooting a death chicken up the bum is never to be turned down), while the Necron Warriors decided that it was time to approach the possibility of maybe getting to Rapid Fire something at some stage and lumbered out of cover. The central unit was joined by Tekeshi – with the Relic unclaimed, it was time to get some mileage out of that Warlord Trait.

The Necron shooting phases were becoming more and more cautious, with orders of fire being preserved so’s to minimise the chance of either lightning arcing my own models or waste the Destroyers’ capacity to bust Space Marines (TM) open like soggy cantaloupes. The Tomb Blades opened up by killing a lone Tactical Squaddie, while the Annihilation Barge secured one (and thus three) hits on the Stormraven. Ben chose not to Jink – a fatal mistake, since two more hits glanced, stripping the vehicle down to little more than a flying anvil, which crashed to no effect. This freed the Lychguard’s Cryptek up to shoot the closest Tactical Squad and nail one Tactical Squaddie, who was joined by his Sergeant and six of his mates as the Warrior crescent focused its fire on them, which meant the Destroyers were able to devote their attentions to the Sternguard and scoop them off the board. The Lychguard, whose continued survival had begun to impress and surprise me, went into the survivors of the foremost Tactical Squad, butchered them, and consolidated at full pelt toward the heavy bolter Devastators. They were almost certainly going to die next turn, but pushing toward that vulnerable and important unit would surely mean that Ben had to focus fire on something within his battle-line rather than outside it, just like last turn… and that would leave Tekeshi free to grab the Relic.


Interesting Rules Interlude – The thing about those Lychguard is that they become perversely more survivable when there’s only one of them left. With hits being resolved against the majority Toughness (5, from the Overlord and Lychguard) and the best available save (either the Overlord’s 2+ or the Lychguard’s 4+) it’s surprisingly hard to shift them, even with Enfeeble to tweak the odds in your favour somewhat. Ben and I had some discussions about this, as it seems – in its own way – as open to exploitation as the old Wound Allocation system was, especially for Necrons with their capacity to take casualties up to this magic p0int, then Reanimate those casualties and do it all again.

Round Four – Necrons 1, Space Marines (TM) 0
Relic Possession – None

Aura cast Enfeeble on the Lychguard again, and led his Terminators back toward the front line and the Destroyers, while the Tactical Squads broke cover and brought the Annihilation Barge within meltagun range. Alas, the Shooting phase was not kind to Ben; the meltagun nearest the Barge missed it, and he decided to hold on to Kaine’s squad until last, just in case he needed them to finish the Lychguard. As it happens, he did – a turn of stupendous Armour Saves from my apparently magical hands meant the Lychguard weathered every single bolt of every size that came their way, although the Rending hits from the Terminators’ assault cannon and Kaine’s super-bolter were too much for them in the end.

The Night Scythe returned from my corner of the long board edge and flew over the battle-line, landing in front of the Relic, which Tekeshi advanced into and scooped up. The Annihilation Barge turned on the spot, while the Destroyers moved up to screen Tekeshi – important as they were, the Relic was more important with Random Game Length looming on the horizon. The Tomb Blades, meanwhile, enfiladed into Ben’s deployment zone, with their eye on either shooting up the Devastators or turbo-boosting to secure a decent save and the Linebreaker point. After the Scythe successfully dropped three Devastators, the Tomb Blades tried to finish them off, but couldn’t quite manage it – the last one fled toward the Tomb Blades (counter-intuitive, but whatever), Knew No Fear, and promptly hid behind a wall. The rest of the army threw everything it had at Kaine’s Tactical squad, killing everyone but the Captain himself, the Sergeant and the lone melta-gunner.


Round Five – Necrons 1, Space Marines (TM) 0
Relic Possession – Necrons

Tekeshi’s fiddling with the Relic had obviously done something, at least, as a bolt of black light shot into the heavens and seemingly turned out the sun! Night had fallen, rather earlier than anticipated, and what remained of the Space Marines (TM) closed ranks and range to pursue the Destroyers and the Warriors behind them. The surviving Devastator nailed one Destroyer, the Tactical Squad nearest the Barge another, but Kaine and his battle brothers flubbed spectacularly, leaving the last one intact and well. Aura reached out to Life Leech Tekeshi, but her sheer Tenacity allowed her to shrug off both the wounds. The Terminators likewise failed to excel themselves, with a combination of Feel No Pain and Reanimation Protocols keeping all but one of Tekeshi’s Warriors in the fight. In fact, the only real disappointment for me was the Destroyers’ failure to Reanimate after the lone survivor broke and fled.

The Night Scythe and Tomb Blades criss-crossed elegantly, the one flying over the others in order to finish the last Devastator while the others swept under the one to zap Kaine and his squad from the safety of the Space Marines’ (TM) deployment zone. Tekeshi, somewhat surprised at the effectiveness of the device she’d picked up, led her Warriors back into formation, and the collected firepower atomised the Space Marine (TM) officer and his associates, with a Cryptek claiming the final kill and the point for Slaying the Warlord. In a final insult to Ben’s dignity, the Annihilation Barge spat electric death into the Terminators, and Ben failed two of the only 2+ saves he’d been called upon to make. Lady Luck had stuck up two fingers for long enough, and the Random Game Length – as predicted – kicked in.

GAME OVER – Necrons 6, Space Marines (TM) 0
Glory to the Dynasty of Kadavah!


Well. That was… fortunate.

I’m not going to attribute my victory entirely to luck, as I do think I played a solid game without any of the usual “oh sod that’s blown this one” moments which are the default state for my wargaming career. I do think that Ben had a pretty poor streak, though, from the Barrage flubbing so spectacularly, through the deeply inefficient turn where those Lychguard just wouldn’t die and those meltaguns just wouldn’t hit, to the final kick in the teeth of losing two Terminators. Even his finest moments – landing the Dreadnought right in my army’s face and wiping out the airdropped Warriors in one turn – ultimately came out bad for him, as it meant a turn in which his army turned around and shot things behind them instead of paying attention to the Relic in front of them. That the Lychguard induced a second turn of that was just insult to injury, really. All things being equal, though, I feel he did make three significant mistakes, any two of which might have ended up costing him the game.

In deployment, the Terminators being on a flank meant I could more or less avoid them and focus on things I could actually kill. The Terminators being in the centre would have both supported his Dreadnought strike and allowed him to advance his 2+ saves onto the Relic, secure it, and then bunker up the Tactical Marines around it. It’s not like they didn’t contribute, but they didn’t make themselves a priority target, and if I don’t need to sink torrents of fire into Terminators, I won’t bother.

In movement, I think that it was unnecessary to move the Terminators back toward the airdropped Warriors – that vacillation meant they spent another turn moving back to where they were instead of making a nuisance of themselves. Enfeeble happens before movement, so they could feasibly have done that and then kept driving forward, hooking up with Kaine’s buffing auras, and become a truly frightful proposition for a below-strength Lychguard squad to handle, never mind anything else in my army. To be honest, I don’t feel like enough was made of Kaine; Ben used Dust of a Thousand Worlds to reposition but never actually ended up assaulting anything bar that one drop with the Dreadnought, which ended up out of Kaine’s inspiring range anyway. Personally, I’d attach Kaine to a combat squad and have that unit dart back and forth to place his aura most effectively, catch bullets for him, and chuck out some plasma gun shots to help with high-save infantry and light vehicles.

In list building, upon which we’re in agreement, Ben’s passing up some free heavy weapons, yet he’s paying for the same guns elsewhere in the list, and with no Victory Points for any dead units past the first, the lack of Combat Squads to allow more efficient fire control is inexcusable. His special weapon loadout also leaves him a bit devoid of mid-range or long-range armour-cracking, and the Stormraven has more guns than it can actually fire with any effectiveness. There’ll be a follow-up post to this one at some point in which that matter of list building is discussed in more detail, as I feel it might be educational to go through that process in its own right.

As for the learning objectives; the Relic doesn’t seem that hard now that I’ve played it and feel I have a working grasp on it, although I have no idea what I’d do with the mission in a 900 point Escalation League game – dragging the Relic onto the Ghost Ark and hope for the best seems like it might be worth a shot, but apart from that I’ve no idea. I do feel quite comfortable with the flyers now; this deployment type is tailor-made for them, with a whole long board edge to work with, and lacking any turret guns, I think the standard approach for my Scythes (oh yes, I want another one) will be to fly them on, do the business, and then take them off for a turn to set up a decent vector for next turn. For Ben’s flyers, the temptation is to stay on the board, use a tighter flight pattern, and drop two turns of firepower – but with only one turret mounted gun, I think he’s still better off entering, shooting, and departing to set up a missile vector for the turn afterwards, though I’m willing to give the Stormtalon the benefit of the doubt since it handily turns into a Skimmer after it’s arrived. In terms of Psychic Powers, we’re both quite taken with Biomancy, and I think we’ll both be using it again…

Xiberia, in the Second Year of the Reign of the Tekeshi Conglomerate

With every flash of the dolmen gate, with every movement of her forces through the ether, with every expenditure of energy, Xiberia grew more unstable. Deep in her logic cores, phaeron-Tekeshi knew this, and though the deployment of military capability was necessary, the parameters for failure verged further on the unacceptable with every exertion of the tomb world’s systems. Xiberia’s reigning overlord no longer had the capacity to worry – it had been pruned out of her when she ascended to her current position – but the raw probabilities were not in her favour.

Even now, as the gate flashed, the tomb structure lurched. Stone ground on stone; the ice cage which her planet had become shifted as its latent energies wer harnessed to draw her forces back. Her senses reached out around the world – or did data from around the world flow in? Some outlying chambers had been crushed, some corridors collapsed, some parts of her domain filled with gelatinous irradiated filth. Steam rose through this harness or that, as the constant shifting of material to and from the planet’s core was interfered with for the sake of conquest. Xiberia shuddered – but she endured.

Tekeshi detected her nemesor-self advancing from the gateway, and transmitted to the chamber; for form’s sake as much as anything, the techu displayed a hovering image of her face opposite the gateway, a greenish blur in the vast darkness.

“Hail. Nemesor.”

The smaller, more slender iteration that commanded their armies in the field halted, and bowed demurely, lowering her warscythe in deference. Was that a hint of theatricality in the gesture? A suggestion of whimsy? Perhaps – and yet it was that ingenious quality, that flair, which justified the maintenance of this altered iteration.

“Hail, Phaeron,” she buzzed, in what she doubtless fancied to be a purr. Sometimes, when her selves were sufficiently close for such reflection, Tekeshi wondered if the nemesor had truly grasped that she was no longer flesh and blood.

“Do you. Have it?” Like worry, impatience was no longer a quality possessed by phaeron-Tekeshi; nevertheless, nemesor-Tekeshi had been sent through the gateway for a purpose, and the achievement of that purpose had taken longer than anticipated, and upon that achievement rested the stability and sustainability of Xiberia.

The nemesor took a delicate, mincing step to one side, and another. A catafalque drifted after her, attended by the cadaverous crypteks, hands darting over its contents with what could, perhaps, be imagined as love – for inside the catafalque there rested a construction of cable and crystal, dark as uttermost night even in the deep corpse-light of the tomb.

“We brought back the khepera, as commanded.” Tekeshi’s nemesor-self struck a pose of triumph, then crooked an elbow, rested the forehead of her skull in a palm, tapped long fingers one by one upon the metal in a pastiche of regret. “Koschei has been… inconvenienced.”

“Re-iteration. Acceptable.” Phaeron-Tekeshi paused, savouring the flow of data. “Xiberia. First.”

Nemesor-Tekeshi straightened, capered aside, would almost have clapped her hands had she not been armed. Then take it. Harness the sun. Regenerate our world.”

The image winked out. The crypteks moved, bearing the khepera further in. Xiberia would rise again.

Author: Jon

Sententious, mercurial, and British as a bilious lord. Recovering Goth, lifelong spod. Former teacher and amateur machine politician, now freelance writer and early-career researcher.

9 thoughts on “[40K Battle Report] – The Perfect Storm”

  1. Cool post.
    It kept me quite entertained during a lengthy bus ride in the rain.
    As always, reading about Space Marines (I suppose in light of recent events, the TM is absolutely necessary EVERY SINGLE TIME, huh?) getting stomped out by da Xenos makes me ever so happy.

    1. Well, you never know who might be reading. Best to be on the safe side, eh? ;)

      (I actually felt a bit bad by Turn 5. Ben hadn’t been too cheery for the last two rounds and losing two Terminators on his last batch of saves was just insult to injury really.)

  2. Gotta say, I’m baffled. There you were with your Privateer Press-hat, smiting the GW over Warhammer left and right, and now I find you, nary a year ago…. playing 40k????? Was it some kind of phase? If you don’t like WFB 8th ed, you’ve no business liking 40k 6th ed. It just does not compute.

    1. Gosh, I’m glad that my tastes have to be carved in stone, and that I can’t find some value in playing games I don’t necessarily care for with people I do, or that I can’t be given gifts in kindness and attempt to get some value out of them, or that I can’t decide to give something another crack of the whip in case I was wrong about it.

      Nope. GRAVEN IN SLABS OF MARBLE, that’s how it is. Never mind that 40K isn’t actually the same game as WFB and hasn’t been since the early 1990s, or that I don’t have the huge case of sour grapes surrounding my own, personal, much-beloved collection of miniatures having the rules rug ripped out from underneath them twice on the trot with regards to 40K as I do with WFB.

      I don’t think you have any business coming in here telling me what I do and don’t have business doing, in ignorance of the factors at work.

      Also, I’m fickle, and Privateer Press ain’t perfect. Pray don’t read through my Warmachine tag and find the (I think legitimate) criticisms I’ve levelled at them in the past. Your head might explode, and that’s a 40K thing.

    2. All right, so I was in a foul mood when I wrote the last comment, though I stand by everything in it.

      What it boils down to is this: 40K.6 is not -as- crap as WFB.8. It has, in the last year or so, developed faults and failings of its own (the sprawl of rules across digital supplements, and the emergence of further Epic-scale pieces that just. don’t. work. in 32mm on any table to which I have access). Said faults and failings made it pretty easy to determine who’d receive the Emperor’s Mercy when the rent was due and I was £200 short – ‘bye Necrons.

      1. Well it was actually good to see Von bite at something. I’ve read the stuff in your other blog (the JG one… yes, I really do follow your writing, as it has a compelling nature to it) so I can see how my comment might have stepped on your toes a little bit. I too stand by everything I wrote though. And what I’m about to write. Deep breath. Folks, this might take a while.

        Most of the things that make the core system of 6th ed 40k distinct and IMO clunky compared to 5th ed 40k are things they’ve taken from 8th ed WFB. Random charge distances. Pre-measuring. Random terrain eating your plastic mans. Random spell/psychic power choosing and casting. Challenges in combat. Overwatch/stand-and-shoot. A whole lot of rolling dice on random tables. That’s all 8th ed WFB. Commercially it’s very strange given how unpopular 8th ed WFB has proven beyond its adherents. But that’s neither here nor there.

        The other stuff that distinguishes the core system of 6th ed 40k from its predecessors – hull points, not being able to charge out of most transports, the easily abusable allies system and the equally silly allies matrix, and the godawful flyer rules – is nothing to recommend the system. I’m just not seeing how you can with one hand condemn 8th ed WFB and with the other (slightly) exonerate the core system of 6th ed 40k. I’ve had someone derisively refer to 6th ed 40k as “Fantasy Boltgun”. You could be a bit more specific as to why “40K.6 is not -as- crap as WFB.8.” I’d argue that it’s far worse, not that it matters. We could probably agree to saying “both are crap” but I’m pedantic to uncover your reasoning.

        The reason I refer constantly to the core system of 6th ed 40k is because you, as have most of the internet, taken the view that all of the extra stuff over the past year that they’ve tacked onto the core system is what has really weighed the game down and sunk it. I’m in two minds about that position.

        On the one hand, you can point to the swift release of the Tau and Eldar codexes, each by themselves significantly stronger than the other 6th ed codexes – somewhere a Dark Angel is playing the galaxy’s smallest synth-violin, and even his Ultramarine battle-brother looked at some of the shiny toys the Xenos had acquired, wondering why Shuriken weapons had a version of rending when boltguns have nothing special – and when used together nigh-unstoppable, was the turning point, followed by the rapid release of dataslate, supplement and expansion (Escalation and Stronghold Assault) content over Christmas that introduced formations of units that unnecessarily toyed around with the Force Org chart.

        Yes, it is a valid criticism that it makes it harder to feel like you know what the game is about when there is all this extra stuff you might not have seen or even have access to. If it was just in codexes then you could easily peruse them in a shop. Never mind the fact that if someone wants to use a Baneblade or a Knight or the Legion of the Damned or Cypher they’ll need to have the rules for them, then you can politely ask to have a look at those rules to check why it is your bog standard codex troops are dying so rapidly: all the bolted-on stuff makes it feel like the game’s designers themselves just don’t know what they want from the system except to throw new models at you, exclaiming “Here! This is cool! You can use it! No, on top of your allies! And your Inquisition detachment! *counts money* Here’s something else! And something else! What’s that, you can’t deal with a Strength D weapon? Better get your own one then!” I’d argue this particular criticism is not one that can be levelled at 8th ed WFB. Yes, there was a silly expansion where they tried to get you to buy lots of monsters, but no one plays that, so it doesn’t matter.

        On the other hand, which has been waiting patiently, I find the criticism less valid because it exonerates the game’s core system for its myriad of flaws. In particular the allies system, which could have been interesting but was spectacularly poorly executed and now comes across as a bad way to force you to buy new things just to keep up, which could easily not be a problem if they had a rough balance between codex power levels and stopped armies benefiting from each other’s special abilities: the aforementioned Taudar amalgamation, and even something as fluff-violating as Space Marines being best buds with Tau. And flyers, again something that had merit beyond upping the arms race but just made you feel you were missing a whole chunk of the game if you didn’t have one, which until recently was not even possible for all armies. It would’ve been fine if everyone had a flyer and if all flyers were roughly balanced against each other, and it shows they don’t know what they’re doing because if you make some amazing (the Heldrake) and some rubbish (the Dark Angels ones) you’re not doing your job of selling the latter. 6th ed 40k was doomed long before all the floodgates of extra content were opened, and a lot of it was to do with the stuff they took from 8th ed WFB. And now a lot of it is to do with stuff they haven’t properly tried with 8th ed WFB.

        TL:CBA – I just found it odd to see so much 40k content on your scribblings, is all. You’ve said why, and I understand the desire to want to be play something which you can easily get a game of. And you yourself have given up the ghost and clocked out, to your credit. Indeed, I reckon 80% of current 40k players cling to it despite all of the above precisely because it’s the one game you know you can get a game of wherever you go, and also because they’ve invested so much money in it that to jump ship now would be like admitting it was all a lie, so long, and thanks for all the fish. I just cringe every time I see another silly min-maxed 40k army list or photos of someone’s airbrushed Wave Serpents or yet another bloody Space Marine chapter colour scheme. It’s so boring, can I get off this boring ride to boringess? Pwetty please?

        I’m also intrigued that you got as much for the Crons as you did. I imagine it was far less than their cost but £200 is also impressive given that everyone is jumping off this sinking ship and who in their right mind would be getting further down the decks at a time like this. Was it sold as one job lot or did you break it down?

        STL:JICYCBA (still too long: just in case you could be arsed) – I’m a stickler for consistency, see. I cringed when I read the criticisms of 4th ed D&D from people who, in other places, had praised 3rd ed D&D for reasons that were not logically consistent with their hate of 4th ed. How could they say they disliked 4th ed because the combat rules were clunky when they’ve said (and when it’s the case) that 3rd ed combat rules were even clunkier, for example. What it suggested to me, and what I will posit here, is that there is more to the dislike of the most modern iterations of the ‘big’ wargames and roleplaying games than specific criticisms of rules or content.

        You hit upon this in your HoP post: “Like many of us, he was a Games Workshop orphan; he’d watched the games he loved change into something he wasn’t so keen on, and he’d sought pastures new elsewhere.” I think there is something emotional at work here. You loved this stuff as a kid. Now you’re no longer a kid. And it’s no longer the stuff you loved when you were a kid. So why on earth could you love it? Everything changes. Why should everything be the same as when we were kids? I’m not sure what to call it. It seems to be the main gremlin afflicting modern society, and our generation in particular. Is it an inability to grow up? Is that too harsh? Is it possible to objectively say 2nd 40k is better than 4th ed 40k, or that 6th ed 40k is better than 8th ed WFB? Probably not, but when we make such statements subjectively, I think so much of it has to do with how our current emotions relate to our memories of our childhood emotions. You called us ‘orphans’. That implies that our love of these toys goes very deep, so it only follows our relationship with them is similarly deep-rooted and complicated. I’m just doing some digging, is all!

        I mean, look at this: http://beatronin.wordpress.com/2014/04/01/a-40k-confession/ And if that’s how WE feel, imagine how in the seven hells the actual writers must feel! The whole “Themes are endlessly re-hashed and tantalizing glimpses are boringly laid bare” suggests they are as beholden to their childhood and past as we are. We’re all locked into this destructive spiral. I sometimes wonder if it’s time to just quit these sorts of hobbies, like we would smoking, and do something much healthier and happier, like fencing, or archery, or horseriding.

        Entropy. I wonder if that’s the right word. GW probably shouldn’t have lasted as long as it has, and it’s a testament to all of us that we kept them going way past their bedtime. Maybe it is the nature of any creative endeavour that it eats its own children, like revolutions do, and that it peters out over time, betraying everything it once stood for. It’s very easy and popular to trash a band/company/artist’s recent offerings and say ‘their earlier stuff was better’. It makes us FEEL better, which is the key to all of this. It almost doesn’t matter whether or not, subjectively or objectively, using a set of agreed-upon criteria, if one system is better or worse than another. We played one when we were teenagers when the world was new and exciting, and we played the other when we were ‘grown-ups’ who are bitter and disappointed that the world no longer seems new and exciting. There is no contest.

        1. You know, you really should start your own blog. These epic-length comments a) deserve a platform of their own and b) are far too long to reply to in any conventional sense. It’s how I got started, you know… ;)

          Essentially, the argument is subjective and experiential. I have, in the recent past, been able to enjoy late fifth and early sixth edition 40K. I have not been able to enjoy late seventh or eighth edition WFB. Factors in play include:

          – player base. I don’t have as many good friends who play WFB regularly and live within relatively easy travel distance. The people with whom we play games go a long way toward smoothing over issues within the game itself. Despite my best efforts I found pick-up 40K and WFB equally tiresome, and I think you’ve covered most of the reasons why.
          – gifts and bargains formed the core of my Necron army, so there wasn’t the huge buy-in cost that there would have been with a totally new force. I think that made me more predisposed to like the whole business, since I wouldn’t be writing off that much if it fell apart in my hands. Also, gifts from good friends sort of oblige one to enjoy those gifts in their presence, if I understand the protocol correctly.
          – lack of sour grapes. I play Vampire Counts. The undermining of Psychology, the emergence of Steadfast, the shift to randomly-generated spellcasting resources and the swell in unit sizes stung my army particularly hard, especially since it’s a legacy collection anyway (the army was built during the height of sixth edition and received precious little updating for seventh – I don’t like Ghouls, you see.)
          – Necrons are actually quite good. Despite having chosen them for reasons of aesthetics and opportunity, I did quite enjoy riding the wave for a while. Experience has taught me that you’ll get a couple of good, fun years out of a decent 40K codex before the mire shifts beneath you; I quit while I was ahead, or more accurately once I saw the signs that I’d soon be behind. Cynical, perhaps, but there you have it.

          While going through a phase (OK, I accept your terminology and the connotation of immaturity) in which I was cautiously experimenting with sixth edition 40K, I blogged about it a lot. That tends to happen around here. If you followed the RPG content you’ll notice a swing around between highly granular three-hundred-page-rulebook games into extremely stripped-down OSR play and back around into the former with the IKRPG. Since you read the personal blog you’ll know about cyclothymia, and it might interest you to know that bursts of radical life-changing (quit my job! move house! sell my army! change ALL the circumstances!) are a characteristic of my condition. It’s only recently, as I’ve run out of resources to make such abrupt revisions, that I’ve begun the serious process of changing myself.

          I appreciate that you like to see consistency in people, but I’m afraid that what you like doesn’t really matter two shits when it comes to my gaming and blogging choices. If a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds, an insistence on logic is the bugbear: sometimes the reaction is subjective, subconscious, or influenced by factors beyond what’s actually printed in the actual rulebook. I quite enjoy the IKRPG even though it steadily ticks off everything that I detest about modern roleplaying games – because I have enough of a handle on the system already already to play it with people I like, and they seem to like playing it. I can only imagine that when D&D made its transition from third to fourth, what happened was the shift from a kind of clunk that people KNEW to a kind of clunk that they DIDN’T KNOW. People fear change. Furthermore, the explicit shift in inspirations, the abandonment or adjustment of some of D&D’s core tropes, must have had a similarly jarring effect – “this is nothing that I recognise as D&D any more”. To be fair, that’s how I felt about it; I just wasn’t to keen on third edition either. Or second. In fact, outside the OSR, I’ve never found a D&D on which to be keen…

          (This is the closest you’ll come to an admission that my previous comment was lazily articulated, and should have read “I find 40K.6 less crap than WFB.8”. Frankly, I’ve grown so used to mentally adding a subjective qualifier to everything I read; I occasionally forget that others don’t have this reflexive habit…)

          In conclusion: I was recently asked to define ‘Oldhammer’ and the best shot I could take was “the Warhammer you played when you were twelve”. I think you’re absolutely right in that the systems we embrace as teenagers – enthusiastic, authentic, scrabbling for components with which to construct our identities, rabidly defending what we like because, in a very real way, what we like is WHO WE ARE. In a similar vein, the most stinging criticism I’ve received recently was the description of the fanboy as perpetual adolescent (it was especially venomous since, like all the things to which I pay most attention, it came from the lips of an attractive woman), and I think that’s a vile accuracy. I’ve been saying for years that childhood is over when we can accept that Thundercats was shit. For ‘Thundercats’, insert whatever you’ve refused to put down; whatever you neurotically reread, rewatch, replay. We’re all manchildren over something. Eventually, maybe, we accept that we can’t go home.

          I’m surrounded by detritus. Novels I’ve read a hundred times. Armies I’ve sold, replaced, and realised I’m never going to experience in the same way again. I don’t allow myself to buy ornaments or mementos or souvenirs precisely because I know I’ll be drowning in the fucking things within a year. The urge to slash and burn is generally strong in me, as is the urge to cling to them for some sense of constancy. I feel that both of them must be symptoms of something; my condition, or the condition of my nerdy generation.

          PS: I cycle, cook, and act in radio dramas, and I enjoy fencing when my recurring injuries will let me try it. It’s not like this shit is ALL I do. Also, the Necrons were broken up and sold as small components, sometimes as bundles to absorb the impact of dud choices. £200 was actually an improvement on cost, given that the majority of those miniatures, as with the majority of my gaming possessions, were bought second-hand.

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