Ender101
07-25-2010, 07:41 PM
Jeremiah Kraye, captain in the Cygnaran Reconnaissance Service watched the forest around him, watching and listening for movement in the dewy underbrush. He patted the neck of his horse an sniffed at the air. The sweet smell of the forest was tinged with the caress of smoke from his warjack?s boilers. It was deathly quiet in the forest, Kraye strained to hear the sounds of birds or animals. There were no irritated cries at the noise his scouting party created.
The only sounds the captain could hear were the warjacks around him, the heavy feet of the Hammersmith and the Cyclone loud in comparison to the light stride of the sentinel at his side, all echoing off into the stillness of the woods. Off to the left a trio of Storm Lances kept easy pace with his battle group, the leader nodding to the captain as he caught his eye. Kraye touched the brim of his hat in return, nodding back at the officer.
The captain frowned as he tilted his head, convinced that he could hear something off in the distance. Perhaps it was the ground subtly vibrating, or just a bad feeling washing over him, but he turned in his saddle and warily looked around, his eyes straining for some sign of the enemy. Closing his eyes he concentrated, a small part of his consciousness leaving his body, slipping into the cortex with comfortable ease, and looked through the eyes of his faithful hunter.
The hunter darted through the forest, its long barrel idling by its side, its head moving from side to side, peering with the eyes of its experienced master. At first there were only shadows moving between the trees, shapes dancing behind the thick underbrush, but as the hunter grew closer, the Menites became visible, half a dozen warjacks moving easily between the trees, the maneuverability displayed by the light warjacks rivaling Kraye?s own battle group. The small mystery was explained when he caught sight of the muscle bound, white robed Amon-ad Raza.
Kraye opened his eyes and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulling out his carbine and loosening Bitter End from its scabbard. He halted his warjacks and signaled for the other members of his party to stop. The knights stopped, their horses uneasily pawing the ground as their riders peered into the forest, looking for some sign of whatever had spooked their warcaster. The warjacks fell into position, the smoke drifting lazily into the canopy as they idled, the weapons gleaming in the half light. From behind him, the Black 13th Gunmage Team approached him, crouching low, already acting as if in a combat situation.
?We?re about to come up against a large Menite war party. I don?t know what they?re up to around these parts, but I reckon it can?t be good for us. Take up ambushing positions there,? he directed the storm lance commander behind a large series of boulders. He looked down and smiled at the nervous little gobber Reinholdt, who?d insisted on tagging along on the scouting trip, explaining to the captain how travel was important for someone as worldly and famous as he. ?You just stick with me Reinholdt, and you should be alright.? He patted the side of his horse again and nodded to Lynch, his hand once again briefly touching the tip of his riding cap, the 13th?s leader would know where to place his unit.
They waited for several minutes, the Hunter scouting through the forest making its way back to Kraye, settling into a hiding place just as the Menite group marched into the clearing Kraye had decided to use as their ambush location. The captain was impressed with the size of the Menite warband, six warjacks all said and told, a chanting choir and self flagellating zealots stalking out of the woods. Kraye smiled as he felt the gun of the hunter bark in the distance. It had begun.
-
Alright, so a friend of mine and I had a game earlier this weekend, Amon vs Kraye, and it was a close one, let me tell you.
My list: 35pts
Kraye
-Hunter
-Sentinel
-Cyclone
-Hammersmith
-Squire
Black 13th
Storm Lances (min)
Reinholdt, Gobber Spectator
His list: 35
Amon
-Crusader
-Devout
-Repenter
-Repenter
-Dervish
-Dervish
Zealots (max with UA)
Choir (max)
Reclaimer
Vassal of Menoth
Wracks
We had fairly simple terrain, several forest ?boxes? and two four inch templates, a few boulders as impassible terrain and a lot of open ground. Kraye went first, re-positioning and splitting the army into two parts, the Storm Lances on the, the rest of the blue army on the right, and the Cyclone between the two forces, ready to move and support either side. Kraye cast full tilt and ended his turn. The Hunter attempted to hit one of the light 'Jacks, but fell just an inch or two short.
Amon?s turn saw everything run with the exception of Amon and the choir, singing something about safe passage. A few spells were flung, but nothing of any real note happened.
Kraye was back up and ready to show the menites why you don?t sneak around Cygnar's borders. Kraye upkept full tilt on the Hammersmith, and moved forward, casting Fire Group and shooting at Amon, barely denting the shield guarding Devout. The sentinel mowed down several Zealots and like the faithful hound it was, returned to Kraye to protect him. The cyclone knocked a few more zealots out, their defensive buff becoming a real thorn in my side. The Storm Lances charged in and wiped the remaining stragglers, giving a full five soul tokens to the reclaimer. The Hammersmith moved itself into a better position near Kraye (had I been a little braver and smarter I would have popped Kraye's feat and charged the hammersmith down the menite player's throat, perhaps even knocking Amon out of the fight. I had underestimated the distance however, so that was that). The Black 13th pushed the Crusader a few inches back and killed a choir boy. Another choir boy bit the dust as the hunter splattered him messily with its long arm.
And here was where things really started to go down hill. Amon casts Synergy after allocating focus and what not. To make a long story short, the Crusader brings the Sentinel within half of its life, the Hammersmith takes a respectable hit from one of the Repenters, and Kraye himself takes a pair of thwacks, bringing him to about half health. The Lances die to an enthusiastic break-dancing dervish. This left me with a very poor board position, and to make matters slightly worse, the Devout moved up to try and shield Amon from retaliation.
Retaliate I did, Kraye allocated a few focus to both the hammersmith and Cyclone, giving one to the hunter and keeping one for himself. Kraye moves out of combat and takes a pair of shots at Amon, missing terribly both times. He pops his feat. The hunter pings him for one point of damage. The Cyclone moved around and took a whooping 5 shots at Amon (I really should have cast fire group again, but oh well, another mistake on my part), bringing the monk down to 7 health after a few well placed shots. The hammersmith was in a good position to try and slam the light Repenter into Amon with its hammers, only I botched the first attack! I thought I had lost looking at those two ones and the three, staring defiantly at me. The Hammersmith greatly damaged the light warjack and tried to position itself to block a charge from a Dervish. Things were looking bleak when I activated the Black 13th, Ryan aiming her pistols and mage storming the devout next to Amon, rolling just enough damage to kill him.
-
The clearing was alive with the din of battle. The sounds of iron titans breaking against eachother and the roar of whirling guns echoed throughout the forest. Kraye grunted as one of the light warjacks crashed into him, his horse braying in anger and pain. The wicked flail crashed against him, shattering his overshield and leaving ugly gouges in his armor. He bit back a shout of pain and disengaged from the light warjack with a dervish of Bitter End, the magical blade parrying the spiked balls and chain. He rode around the melee, avoiding the marauding warjacks, aiming his carbine at Amon, trying to ignore the pain in his arm as he pulled the trigger rapidly. The monk deftly dodged the bullets. It was all the captain could do to hold back a curse. He shouted, releasing a powerful burst of arcane energy, infusing his warjacks with even more mobility and drive.
He closed his eyes forcing his attention between his warjacks. The hunter fired at the monk, the armor piercing shell barely wounding the opposing warcaster, the shot hardly slowing him. On the other side of the field, the sound of the Cyclone?s twin Gatling cannons filled the air with a heavy buzz. At Kraye's urging, the heavy warjack directed both of the whirling streams of red hot lead at the Menite warcaster. Amon's devout raised its shield and attempted to guard the warcaster with its bulk to deflect the bullets. The rate of fire was too great however, and Kraye watched grimly as the monk?s over shield was pierced by as many as a hundred bullets, leaving bloody craters across his chest and arm.
Unfortunately Amon wasn?t down yet, and Kraye directed what was left of his attention to the Hammersmith, swinging with the hammers desperately, he?d have to end this battle right quick if there was to be any chance of victory. Kraye felt the dismay as the Hammersmith failed to destroy the resilient warjack. He turned in his saddle, pain beginning to blur his vision as he saw Lynch order one of his people to fire upon the jack. Kraye was about to shout out to them, to warn them that the caster still lived, when the whole area exploded in a dazzling, violent, display of magical energy. He whooped as the red and white warjacks fell silent across the field, the metal titans stopping mid frenzy. Their cortexes and boilers shut down, the smoke stacks falling silent. They were easy pickings for his own jacks as they began to tear them apart.
The only sounds the captain could hear were the warjacks around him, the heavy feet of the Hammersmith and the Cyclone loud in comparison to the light stride of the sentinel at his side, all echoing off into the stillness of the woods. Off to the left a trio of Storm Lances kept easy pace with his battle group, the leader nodding to the captain as he caught his eye. Kraye touched the brim of his hat in return, nodding back at the officer.
The captain frowned as he tilted his head, convinced that he could hear something off in the distance. Perhaps it was the ground subtly vibrating, or just a bad feeling washing over him, but he turned in his saddle and warily looked around, his eyes straining for some sign of the enemy. Closing his eyes he concentrated, a small part of his consciousness leaving his body, slipping into the cortex with comfortable ease, and looked through the eyes of his faithful hunter.
The hunter darted through the forest, its long barrel idling by its side, its head moving from side to side, peering with the eyes of its experienced master. At first there were only shadows moving between the trees, shapes dancing behind the thick underbrush, but as the hunter grew closer, the Menites became visible, half a dozen warjacks moving easily between the trees, the maneuverability displayed by the light warjacks rivaling Kraye?s own battle group. The small mystery was explained when he caught sight of the muscle bound, white robed Amon-ad Raza.
Kraye opened his eyes and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulling out his carbine and loosening Bitter End from its scabbard. He halted his warjacks and signaled for the other members of his party to stop. The knights stopped, their horses uneasily pawing the ground as their riders peered into the forest, looking for some sign of whatever had spooked their warcaster. The warjacks fell into position, the smoke drifting lazily into the canopy as they idled, the weapons gleaming in the half light. From behind him, the Black 13th Gunmage Team approached him, crouching low, already acting as if in a combat situation.
?We?re about to come up against a large Menite war party. I don?t know what they?re up to around these parts, but I reckon it can?t be good for us. Take up ambushing positions there,? he directed the storm lance commander behind a large series of boulders. He looked down and smiled at the nervous little gobber Reinholdt, who?d insisted on tagging along on the scouting trip, explaining to the captain how travel was important for someone as worldly and famous as he. ?You just stick with me Reinholdt, and you should be alright.? He patted the side of his horse again and nodded to Lynch, his hand once again briefly touching the tip of his riding cap, the 13th?s leader would know where to place his unit.
They waited for several minutes, the Hunter scouting through the forest making its way back to Kraye, settling into a hiding place just as the Menite group marched into the clearing Kraye had decided to use as their ambush location. The captain was impressed with the size of the Menite warband, six warjacks all said and told, a chanting choir and self flagellating zealots stalking out of the woods. Kraye smiled as he felt the gun of the hunter bark in the distance. It had begun.
-
Alright, so a friend of mine and I had a game earlier this weekend, Amon vs Kraye, and it was a close one, let me tell you.
My list: 35pts
Kraye
-Hunter
-Sentinel
-Cyclone
-Hammersmith
-Squire
Black 13th
Storm Lances (min)
Reinholdt, Gobber Spectator
His list: 35
Amon
-Crusader
-Devout
-Repenter
-Repenter
-Dervish
-Dervish
Zealots (max with UA)
Choir (max)
Reclaimer
Vassal of Menoth
Wracks
We had fairly simple terrain, several forest ?boxes? and two four inch templates, a few boulders as impassible terrain and a lot of open ground. Kraye went first, re-positioning and splitting the army into two parts, the Storm Lances on the, the rest of the blue army on the right, and the Cyclone between the two forces, ready to move and support either side. Kraye cast full tilt and ended his turn. The Hunter attempted to hit one of the light 'Jacks, but fell just an inch or two short.
Amon?s turn saw everything run with the exception of Amon and the choir, singing something about safe passage. A few spells were flung, but nothing of any real note happened.
Kraye was back up and ready to show the menites why you don?t sneak around Cygnar's borders. Kraye upkept full tilt on the Hammersmith, and moved forward, casting Fire Group and shooting at Amon, barely denting the shield guarding Devout. The sentinel mowed down several Zealots and like the faithful hound it was, returned to Kraye to protect him. The cyclone knocked a few more zealots out, their defensive buff becoming a real thorn in my side. The Storm Lances charged in and wiped the remaining stragglers, giving a full five soul tokens to the reclaimer. The Hammersmith moved itself into a better position near Kraye (had I been a little braver and smarter I would have popped Kraye's feat and charged the hammersmith down the menite player's throat, perhaps even knocking Amon out of the fight. I had underestimated the distance however, so that was that). The Black 13th pushed the Crusader a few inches back and killed a choir boy. Another choir boy bit the dust as the hunter splattered him messily with its long arm.
And here was where things really started to go down hill. Amon casts Synergy after allocating focus and what not. To make a long story short, the Crusader brings the Sentinel within half of its life, the Hammersmith takes a respectable hit from one of the Repenters, and Kraye himself takes a pair of thwacks, bringing him to about half health. The Lances die to an enthusiastic break-dancing dervish. This left me with a very poor board position, and to make matters slightly worse, the Devout moved up to try and shield Amon from retaliation.
Retaliate I did, Kraye allocated a few focus to both the hammersmith and Cyclone, giving one to the hunter and keeping one for himself. Kraye moves out of combat and takes a pair of shots at Amon, missing terribly both times. He pops his feat. The hunter pings him for one point of damage. The Cyclone moved around and took a whooping 5 shots at Amon (I really should have cast fire group again, but oh well, another mistake on my part), bringing the monk down to 7 health after a few well placed shots. The hammersmith was in a good position to try and slam the light Repenter into Amon with its hammers, only I botched the first attack! I thought I had lost looking at those two ones and the three, staring defiantly at me. The Hammersmith greatly damaged the light warjack and tried to position itself to block a charge from a Dervish. Things were looking bleak when I activated the Black 13th, Ryan aiming her pistols and mage storming the devout next to Amon, rolling just enough damage to kill him.
-
The clearing was alive with the din of battle. The sounds of iron titans breaking against eachother and the roar of whirling guns echoed throughout the forest. Kraye grunted as one of the light warjacks crashed into him, his horse braying in anger and pain. The wicked flail crashed against him, shattering his overshield and leaving ugly gouges in his armor. He bit back a shout of pain and disengaged from the light warjack with a dervish of Bitter End, the magical blade parrying the spiked balls and chain. He rode around the melee, avoiding the marauding warjacks, aiming his carbine at Amon, trying to ignore the pain in his arm as he pulled the trigger rapidly. The monk deftly dodged the bullets. It was all the captain could do to hold back a curse. He shouted, releasing a powerful burst of arcane energy, infusing his warjacks with even more mobility and drive.
He closed his eyes forcing his attention between his warjacks. The hunter fired at the monk, the armor piercing shell barely wounding the opposing warcaster, the shot hardly slowing him. On the other side of the field, the sound of the Cyclone?s twin Gatling cannons filled the air with a heavy buzz. At Kraye's urging, the heavy warjack directed both of the whirling streams of red hot lead at the Menite warcaster. Amon's devout raised its shield and attempted to guard the warcaster with its bulk to deflect the bullets. The rate of fire was too great however, and Kraye watched grimly as the monk?s over shield was pierced by as many as a hundred bullets, leaving bloody craters across his chest and arm.
Unfortunately Amon wasn?t down yet, and Kraye directed what was left of his attention to the Hammersmith, swinging with the hammers desperately, he?d have to end this battle right quick if there was to be any chance of victory. Kraye felt the dismay as the Hammersmith failed to destroy the resilient warjack. He turned in his saddle, pain beginning to blur his vision as he saw Lynch order one of his people to fire upon the jack. Kraye was about to shout out to them, to warn them that the caster still lived, when the whole area exploded in a dazzling, violent, display of magical energy. He whooped as the red and white warjacks fell silent across the field, the metal titans stopping mid frenzy. Their cortexes and boilers shut down, the smoke stacks falling silent. They were easy pickings for his own jacks as they began to tear them apart.