No casualties for the elves!

[Prince of shadow]

2000 points battle…..

VC
Master necromancer lvl 4 with 100 points magic item
1 thrall
1 necromancer
1 wight lord on horse

1 black coach
1 banshee
2 regiment of zombies smc
1 regiment of 20 grave guards smc
1 unit of 3-spirit host
1 unit of 5 black knights smc
1 unit of 5 wolves

Legions of the shadow (De)
Aldamir Carnesîr, Prince of The Shadow (shadowblade)
Lólindir Ancalímon The Dark Lord (noble) Item; crimson death on chariot
Eldárwen Ciryatan;Sorceress of the Dark Arts(sorc) item; dispel scroll & seal of ghrond

(Elite Shadow Warriors) 1 regiment of 20 dark elf warriors with shield (banner)
(Night bringers) 1 regiment of 10 warriors with repeater crossbow
(Shadows of the night) 2 groups of 5 dark riders with repeater crossbow

(Brotherhood of the Shadow) 1 regiment of 10 cold one knights (warbanner)(champion)
(Blades of the Shadow) 6 shades
(Elite Dark Ballista) 2 RBT


Turn 1
“My lord, we have spotted an undead horde not far ahead,” whispered Afoinsten, leader of the shades scouting party. Rumbling of wheels on the ground, moaning of ghost and the sound of bones could be heard afar. The night was approaching, dark clouds shrouded the sky and the moon morrslieb cast an eerie glow to the night. “Assemble the army,” Aldamir replied coldly. He nodded and gave a courtly bow and left swiftly. Soon the sound of boots pounding against the ground could be heard.

Lights from the torches reflected off the blood forged Armour of the elves. The dark riders rode off to the night stationing themselves to the right and left, threatening the flanks of the enemy. Their hoods and cloaks provided sufficient stealth especially on this night. The battle driven warriors assigned themselves to the center and loaded their crossbows sending death to those who seeks to come within range. The brotherhood of shadow rode themselves proudly behind the crossbowmen with a regiment of blood lusted warriors flanking them to the left. The elite executioners stood tall and held their deadly blade high were flanking the knights to the right. The crewmen of the ballista hurried to the extreme flanks and prepared to unleash bolts of death on the foul undead.

The undead horde moved into ranks. The royal guards stood daringly in the center waiting to bring death to any who come within an arm length. The zombie horde dragged themselves to both side of the elite guards, moaning softly. The Wight lord rode with the armored knights to the left. While the terrifying coach rode itself to the right protecting the flank of the army while the spirits floated in front of the coach, sending chills down the spine of the disciplined warriors. The wolves hid behind the hill waiting to surprise any foe making them their dinner. A figure of power stood behind the hordes of undead, an aura of energy surrounded him, and a ghastly shadow shrouded him. His apprentice Malcus Devon, stood by his side lending any aid he can.

Calsten the master necromancer shifted his vision so he could see the elves clearly before him. He knew his loyal servants of the dead would soon overrun the foolish elves and none would oppose his might. As he surveyed his army with swelling pride, he pondered what would possibly threaten him. He knew his dark arts could even match mighty Manfred von Carstien and he could turn mighty heroes into dust with a single touch. Furthermore he had an unstoppable horde of the dead by his side. Yes, nothing indeed could threaten him.” Come join me, come children let us embrace you with the chill touch of the grave,” he spoke in a booming voice amplified by his arts of magic causing the dark elves to shudder in fear. Amazingly, none of them stirred.

“ Fellow elves, I see in your eyes every single one of you, courage, honor and strength. We will let none pass this land! Not even the walking dead! For this is our home and we rightfully belong here. We are few and the enemies are many, but we will not yield; now we will fight to the end even if it takes every single one of us to die here. We will let them taste the might of Elven blades! We will fight for Malekith! May Khaine be with us!” the general bellowed loudly, bringing the spirit and the moral of every single elf back as one. He rode to the front of the armored warriors and uttered a silent prayer to Khaine.

The sound of thundering drums and trumpets announced the start of the battle. Muffled steps marching to a familiar tempo told Calsten that the elves were on the move. A rain of bolts filled the night, sending the zombies propelling back to the ground crumbling into pieces. A huge bolt buried itself into the ground beside the black knights, missing only by a few inches. Small black bolts pierced through the thick fur of the wolves, inflicting great amount of pain and death. The master necromancer gave an evil laugh as bolts whistled through him, the riders saw that they could not harm him and stopped. Foolish elves these mundane weapons will not harm him at all, now victory was prominent.


The Wight lord spotted riders ahead of him, driven by rage he bellowed and he begun his charge towards the elves. The elves saw it was too much for them and ran for their lives. The Wight lord muttered silent curses as he saw the foolish elves has escaped. The zombie went out of control and charged towards the group of skirmishers ahead of them only to see the elves had fled. The rest of the army marches forward.

Eldárwen sensed great energy was at work here, as the necromancer begun his incantation. The small spark in the night told her that the necromancer had failed his magic.

The great necromancer gathered energy to his hand and unleashed a surge of raw necromantic power. Zombies begun to crawl from the ground to join their kin but crumbled as there was a sudden change in the winds of magic. The ground in these lands seems to trap energies, which blocks casters from accumulating magical energy.
Turn 2

The elves continue their march forward towards inevitable death. There was a silent tension in the air. Eldárwen gathered energy to her hands releasing it with a great amount of force. The necromancers tried to stop the spell but failed. A chill wind in the air turned the zombies into ice statues causing them to shatter to the ground breaking into pieces of ice fragments. She let out a musical laughter of triumph.

The riders and the scouts rallied and hurried back to the rear of the enemy. The general gave a command and black bolts filled the night. Bringing death as it went.

The undead continued their slow march through across the battlefield. A shimmer of light and flames shot through the skies. The necromancer lay stunned on the ground and was badly burned. Calsten muttered silent curses, anger and sadness intertwined as he grasped the winds of magic. He muttered ancient words and incanted a mighty spell.

Eldárwen worked feverishly to stop the spell. With a swift motion, she took out the scroll of Ghrond and read the rune words scripted on it. The rune words glowed brightly and the spell stopped.

Turn 3
“ Taste Elven Blade!" Lólindir shouted a war cry as his chariot carved a path through the masses of armored skeletons. The cold ones bit off the head of the undead creatures crushing them into splinters of bones. The runes on his halberd glowed madly, splitting the vampire thrall into two parts. Suddenly, a cloaked figure leapt out from one of the guards dancing and screaming the seventeen forbidden names of Khaine. He danced in a whirlwind of doom sending a hail of attacks at the grave guards, slicing the head of two and reduced another two into ashes with his blade. Shadow has descended upon them! Although it was too much for the undead but they know no fear and stood their ground.

The black knights shouted in rage and make a daring charge towards the shades, but stopped when they saw the enemy melting into the shadows.

The zombie made its way towards the repeater crossbow warriors only to be met by steel and bolts. The wolves howled ferociously pounced onto the warriors. Four elves unsheathed their Elven blades and quickly dispatched two of the wolves. Six elves fought for their lives, as they slashed at the animated corpses only to reduce one into a pile of rotting flesh and bones. The undead kept on coming and it was all too much for the elves, they turned tail and fled.

The black coach continued its slow march while the ghost moaned as they went. The executioners’ saw there was none of their part in this battle and advanced towards the coach. The warriors and the knights stood waiting for a hole in the defenses.

Horses whined as a horde of skeletons burst out from the ground in front of them, blocking their path. More zombies climbed out to join their friends, reinforcing the horde.

Turn 4
The black coach gave a wailing howl and charged towards the elvish mechanism, seeing the terrifying sight they fled into the night. Calsten surveyed the battle with his eye; everything did not go as well as he thought, his bloodlust Wight lord had been in a wild goose chase for the dark riders. His guards don’t seem to be doing well, that elf with the runic halberd has been carving through them. And now his spirits have been surrounded slowing fading off. Curse those elves! At least one of those pesky elvish skirmishers had fled off leaving the army behind. Suddenly he heard the sound of horse hooves behind him, to his horror he saw five cloaked figures on horse crashing into him. All was lost as darkness descended with a howling scream.

The brotherhood finally found a hole in the defenses in the skeletons and made courageous charge, plowing through the skeletons like a scythe in a wheat farm. Suddenly a wailing scream pierced through the night, two knights fell off their cold ones. Their faces were pale and white; it was as if they had seen death in the eye. All has ended. The undead crumbled to the ground; others vanished into the mist. The coach made its way to the tomb of his master. The Wight lord signaled that the battle was over and the remaining fled and crumbled. The royal guards were desecrated as lances and blades clashed.

Aldamir stood scanning the battle, the ground was filled with bones and metal only a few dead elves were in sight. A messenger ran towards him and bowed courteously, he pulled out a ragged paper as he reported the casualties, “ Sorry for the intrusion my lord, we have currently 4 injured elves and 2 were stunned.” Aldamir nodded and indicated that he could leave. “Wait! I have just a few words.”

The messenger turned his face betrayed a slight irritation as he tried to push it back and replied politely, “Yes my lord, what would you have me to do?”

“Send message to Ghaldren, double the rations tonight and have the injured tended to. Nothing more you may leave.”

“You are gracious my lord, I will inform him now.” He gave a half bow and left hastily as a boyish grinned appeared on his youthful face.

VC victory point 0
Dark elf victory points 2300 Massacre!

[The dark prince]

This should probably be in the battle reports forum. Would a mod/admin move it?

[Thekingsfinestmen-]

VC victory point 184
Dark elf victory points 2300 Massacre!

Well that is some points difference! Congratz.

[Shadow_walker]

Great game you really gave him a kicking!! One thing why did he leave his lv 4 wizard out in the open like that to get charged, didn't he notice your riders.

Good game and well played, that is one hell of a difference in victory points.

[Tzadarkath]

Nicely written BR, but your opponent seemed to be rpetty unskilled/unlucky

[Prince of shadow]

I think he tried his best ...i move my troops around his army..and my dark riders to his rear. He dont dare to join the unit as i got shadowblade..and he was afraid he might get charged.

[Ghmarkiii]

Wow, 2300 to 0. I've never heard of a battle that one-sided, way to go.