The Scrutator Semper Chronicles 16

Chapter Two: The Brown Land

Part Six: What The Thunder Said

Battle lines had been drawn, and what had been isolated skirmishes was now all out war for the Darkfen. Unless they can push the Trollbloods and their allies out of the marsh, the Menites’ plans lie in ruins, and the city of Merwynn could be under threat. The United Kriels need to show their strength to gain allies in their constant quest for survival.

They clash in the Darkholm, the forbidding forest which clings to the Darkhills which surround Merwynn. Grand Scrutator Severius leads his men without fear, but is this a fight the Menites can win?

The Scrutator Semper Chronicles 12

Chapter Two: The Brown Land
Part Two: At The Violet Hour

It was time for the first game of the Brown Land campaign, and Stu and I had chosen a 50 point list from our monstrous 160 point reserve to fight over the contested territory of the Darkfen. The idea for this game is that Grand Scrutator Severius’ first foray into the swamp accompanied by a force composed mostly of mercenary elements is intercepted by a warband from the United Kriels, who have arrived to defend the natives. We used the Halfaug region of the Arctic Anomaly, which has a dangerous pitfall. As a Purist player, Stu could use the edges of the structure to gain cover, but could not advance into it for fear of death. As an Opportunist player, I could freely enter and move across the structure to launch surprise attacks. Any model left within the Descent would die a swampy death. We decided this was an ancient shrine to the Devourer Wurm, where fell magics were still strong.

EDIT: Photos are now up!

The Scrutator Semper Chronicles VII

Chapter One: The Relics of Saint Malathric

Part Seven: Following the Trail

“‘Stop! Here; this is the place.’

Grand Scrutator Alphonse Severius pointed a gloved finger at a nearby copse of trees. His troops watched while the workmen they had brought with them hefted shovels, picks and other tools and went to regard the situation. After a short while, their foreman returned. The morning sun glinted off his bald head as he rubbed his jaw.

‘My lord, how far down would you say these items are buried? We may need most of the day if we have to uproot a tree or two.’

Severius waved his hands to dismiss the man. ‘Then begin now! It will take as long as it takes, no service is too great or small in the service of the Lawgiver. This is the spot, mark my words!’

The Scrutator Semper Chronicles III

Chapter One: The Relics of Saint Malathric

Part Three: The Standoff at Tighrael

“The weak winter sun reached its zenith as the Errant phalanx moved into position behind the abandoned shell of the clocktower. They were the forerunners for the small exploratory force, sent to see how far the Cygnarans had taken control of the town, known as Tighrael in ages before. Now it was nothing, just a collection of ramshackle buildings that even the rats had abandoned. Grass grew waist-high in the streets, heavy with frost, and the Errants took full advantage. Their white armour and chainmail belied their ability to move in silence and blend in to their surroundings. They hunkered down against a collapsed wall and waited.

After a few minutes’ wait the forward scout of these forerunners returned to his brothers-in-arms. He emerged from a clump of grass running and bent almost double, keeping his head below any windows that might give him away. He stopped beside the phalanx leader, and whispered urgently into her ear. She risked a glance over a nearby window sill, off to the southwest. Sure enough, a faraway flash of blue confirmed the report, and soon the telltale clank-clank-hiss of a warjack carried on the afternoon air. The Cygnarans were on their way.

She swept her hand back towards the north, the way they had come, and the phalanx was on the move once more. Keeping the clocktower between them and any keen-eyed Cygnarans, they hit the tall grasses on a near rise and disappeared from sight.”

The Menites surge into Tighrael to find the sacred relics.