(60 Power Level, Patrol Detachment Match Play - Tactical Escalation scenario)
Fenris never really made it as a holiday destination, even at the height of the Imperium it was the last place anyone really wanted to go. Forbidding terrain, cold that would freeze one's knackers off and snow blizzards that could swamp your transport in seconds were, to be fair, the least of a visitors worries. Unless you could drink a wolfie boy under the table, or more unlikely still, beat the canines out of him in a fight - you probably were not getting off the planet intact - either physically or mentally.
So it was with some accompanying locker and transporter room moans and groans that Cpt. McTague informed a detachment of his ultra marines that they had to head to an outpost of Ragnar Blackmane's company to make sure that Librarian Murrius took possession of a Holy Relic that had been uncovered during the Wolves building works. Murrius was concerned that the soft parchment paper contained within the skull adorned gold box may be used for purposes that it certainly wasn't intended for. Certainly the uncouth marines at the base would not appreciate the relic for its holy worthiness.
A simple mission surely - transport a few squads down to liaise with the garrisoned troops, set up the meeting and wait for Librarian Murrius to transport down, get the 'thing' and then they could all be back on there way before any important bits froze off.
Indeed the first night was going swimmingly well, a feast was laid out to honour the guests, mead was supplied in the bucket load and battle stories were swapped... Two little things were to turn this endearing scene into a situation that ended, as the acronym attests, FUBAR. One contributing factor was the mead was wolf mead, The human Ultras probably were not used to the strength of 'Old Fang XXX' and in particular the way it kind of snuck up on you, smacked the section of the brain which controlled 'sensible behaviour' around a bit and filled you with a sense of invincibility. Secondly the base contained around 30 Space Wolf marines who had been cooked up with only themselves to interact with (read fight with) for 3 months.
Still the Lts present from both factions should have been able to keep a lid on it... except for the mead. So there had been a little fracas. Still nothing too serious and nothing the medical bay back in the ship couldn't sort out.
Private Dickus woke up with a very sore head, not a hangover - indeed he was still very drunk - but from a blow with a stool from behind. He vaguely remembered skimming a plas-steel plate across the room and shouting 'Catch...' but, everything else was a blur.
Wandering into the canteen the place was filled with hungry soldiers, most of the Ultras looking like their heads were still somewhat... what's the appropriate word ? Oh yeh... FUBAR. Dickus looked around and then locked eyes with his assailant from the night before. He noticed a snarl and an upturned lip, then the private leaping across the table... However, before Dikus could react, a big, somewhat hairy, hand grabbed the leaping figure by the scruff of the neck, shook him and then pushed him back into his seat, a deep guttural growl making the private put his head down. When sober the mind of Pvt. Dickus would have given a sigh of relief and probably uttered, "TF for that." But his mind wasn't sober, in fact the Old Fang was still doing the fandango with his frontal lobe and instead he shouted,
" That's a good boy.... Sitttttt !"
So that's how the two patrol detachments came to be lined up across the compound from each other...
|He said what? Let's have them...|
Another great game of Newhammer 40k in the bag, basically this was new versus old marines as most of my force were Primus while Shaun was using my old Ultra squads with the Librarian and terminator squad.
Shaun's tactics seemed to be sit back and shoot the snot out of me while I poured across the board in a rage and the to deep strike the termies in behind as a hammer and anvil type 'thang'. A number of games into 40K now and I was learning... This time I staggered my line out with my Hellblaster squad strung out behind which denied most of the middle of the board for the deepstrike - indeed they had to appear right on the flank. Although I lacked heavy hitting weapons in my squads the Primus weapons extra range was to pay dividends and the Razorback frost weapon being heavy d12 proved its worth.
The tactical objective cards generation added a lot to the game... in this scenario you increase the number of cards generated as the game turn increases, which, in theory, adds to the tension and is the 'increasing escalation'.
|Wolves to the left of you, wolves to right... Here they come|
All in all I have to concede that Shaun's dice took the whole 'playing the role of a hung-over group of marines' far to literally. From exploding on reroll plasma guns, to Terminators being unable to make the short charge and being stranded in front of Hellblasters Shaun's Ultras did not have a night to write home about.
|Librarian Murrius (top right) was surrounded by Terminators until the Hellblaster squad opened up !|
|Murrius ran round the corner, only to be backed into by a Razorback and leapt on by a squad of |
Primus Wolfies and Floki (my psyker)
|Nothing beats a bit of fisticuffs.|