INTO THE DAEMON'S NEST
Epic Battle
With a noise like the roaring of waves upon the shore of his long-abandoned home, the rain beat its relentless tattoo on the roof of Leopold’s war-tent. The raging weather outside suited the mood within, he thought, and returned to the debate. Across the table, across maps both ornately painted and hastily scrawled that revealed the realm into which they now marched, two figures stood, grim of face and irate with the turn of events.
To Weiss’ left stood a lean figure armed and armoured as a warrior priest, although he no longer identified himself as such. Indeed, he had hammered from his steel grey plate all sigil or ornamentation that might once have identified his station as a harbinger of the word of Sigmar. Although Leopold might once have pursued his rigid code of purity and questioned such an act, he no longer cared: he had weighed the man’s worth and found him deserving of a place at his side. The man’s features were deep-etched and paternal, an arched brow presiding over a prominent hawk-like nose, with deep set eyes of blue casting a steady stare. The face of a true demagogue, Weiss thought, yet he nonetheless respected the man.
Anselm had earned his place solely by dint of his actions. When the commanders of the southern regiments had shown their true mettle and fled at the first sight of a black banner, Anselm had held. He had rallied the people to defend themselves when their army would not. He had turned the tide through sheer force of will, and revealed himself both a true leader of men and a cunning strategist. Now he commanded a host double the size of Weiss’ own, made up entirely of peasant militia, deserters and survivors from the shattered armies of Morr: farmers; smiths; poachers and townsfolk. All ready to follow their prophet into the very jaws of doom.
“Our faith is our strength, Leopold”, Anselm said, as if guessing Leopold’s train of thought, “but as with all things, without direction it withers. We cannot dwell here any longer.” The voice of the man was clipped, brittle, yet cold and hard as a new-forged blade. “This storm has been sent by the gods themselves to cover our approach and drive fear into the hearts of our enemies. My army believes this, so I believe this. And whilst their fervor holds they are all the more potent. We will need every drop of their fanaticism and avenging spirit to defeat this foe.”
Leopold found himself being swayed by the man. Even he, who had preached before the Arch-Lector himself and girded the faith of thousands of believers from Altdorf to Sylvania, found himself swayed. It was not hard to see why the people worshipped their prophet. Yet Leopold had learned hard lessons of late about allowing his religious fervor to overcome his better judgement. His hand strayed to the panther-head clasp sewn into the leather greave of his sword-arm, reminding himself of the warriors who no longer drew breath to serve the Empire because of his lack of battlefield experience.
“They will not thank you if we fail.” Anselm said quietly, again reading his commander’s mien.
“They will not thank you at all!” growled the figure at his right. “They are with their ancestors now, hallowed and revered in the feasting halls of the gods. And we have much to do ere we join them!” Half a head shorter than his companions, yet half again as broad, Leopold’s second companion looked every inch a Dwarven vagabond. His tattered and weathered travelling cloak was thrown back over well-worn leather breeches and a coat of dark mail. A simple ranger. At least this was what the ignorant and unwary might think, which is how the Dwarf wanted it. Leopold knew better, for he knew this warrior from leagues of hard travelling in the past weeks. He knew that beneath the cloak the Dwarf’s plate bore runes as old as this region of the Empire. That the leather braids woven into his grey beard and matted hair bore runes of heritage that spoke of honour and bonds of brotherhood that the men of the Empire would only begin to understand. He also know that somewhere within the folds of his master-crafted wargear, a pale blue stone spoke of this Dwarf’s lordship and authority.
A commotion at the door of the tent broke the discussion, as raised voices accompanied the sounds of weapons being drawn. From nowhere a pistol of intricate design appeared in the Dwarf-Lord’s hand, and he moved to block the entrance.
“My Lord”, came a voice from beyond the door. Weiss glanced sharply at Anselm, hearing the edge of panic in the man’s voice. They pushed past the Dwarf and strode out of the tent. Beyond the entrance a ring of armed peasants and soldiers bearing spattering torches stood in a wary ring circling a solitary figure, standing wreathed in the firelight.
The man had once been a knight. His black armour was ornate, but torn and rent in a dozen places, and foul rivulets of caked blood crept like rust from where the folded steel plate had failed. The man’s face was likewise a wreck. One eye was missing, a lurid and festering wound dismal to behold, crowning a series of mottled and blue-black bruises that showed where blows had caved in bone. The man’s hair, black and also caked in a matt of dried blood, hung ragged across the man’s face, concealing further abuse. That he walked at all was a miracle.
The figure became aware of Leopold standing before him. The head snapped up, and a smile of smashed teeth and torn lips slashed the man’s face further. With horror Leopold realized he knew the face.
“Steffan!” he gasped.
“Once, perhaps, but no longer” a voice that may been Steffan’s but sounded from a depth beyond the here and now. “Your saviour is ours.” Leopold recoiled, and drew his blade. “Come, son of Sigmar, we await you,” the voice continued, and the wreck of the once proud hero of Morr turned to address the crowd “We await you all. Return to your home men of Morr – the ‘Nest welcomes you. The soul forge hungers. The Blood God . . .”
The Steffan-thing suddenly froze. Shuddering, it turned on legs seemingly heavy with pain, as if the wracked and wounded body suddenly realized how much destruction had been wrought upon it. It stared at Leopold with its single eye wide with fear and pain. No, not at the Witch Hunter, but beyond him, to the door of the tent. Weiss turned, and from the shadow of the tent a familiar figure strode. Familiar to him, if no one else. The creature was a carved wooden marionette, yet no puppet ever walked free as this one did. The face was a grotesque parody of human features, as if the wood carver had decided to reveal the maladies of the inner mind onto the external form of a twisted man-child. Already pushed to the edges of their nerve, several of the men shrank back at the creature’s appearance. The golem raised a many-fingered hand, and from nowhere fire ignited the limb. It pointed the blazing hand at Steffan.
The effect was instantaneous. Lambent green smoke began to emerge from the wounds in Steffan’s plate and flesh. The whole body shuddered and twitched as if being plucked at by unseen hands, a ghastly and twisted reversal of the player’s art, as the marionette animated the puppeteer. The glowing trail of smoke curled towards the golem, and for an instant the golden flame in its hand burned green before vanishing in a flash. Both the golem and Steffan tumbled to the ground, their limbs suddenly free of the bizarre unlife that animated them.
Weiss and Anselm both rushed to the fallen knight. Unbelievably the remaining eye in the ruined face flickered and opened. “He lives!” whispered Anselm, aghast. Steffan’s wrecked lips began to move and Weiss leaned down to catch the words.
“I have seen it“, he said, “you must know . .”
What further words the man of Morr spoke were drowned by the storm, as the rain drove down into the ring of men and their circle of flame.
Battlefield
The battlefield is the blasted lands surrounding the Daemon’s Nest. Much has changed since the day the Raven’s Nest fell. No mortal now dwells in the blasted keep. The stones weep, and a fell glow emerges from the tortured stones. The children of Chaos, daubed of many hues, patrol its walls, and foul weapons bestride the battlements alongside tortured statues of blood-mad cavorting daemons.
Standing alongside the damned castle a new structure has arisen. The Daemon Forge. This tower with its chimney stack pumping red and black smoke into the polluted air is but the pinnacle of a larger, darker structure beneath the ground. Around it, at the points of the eightfold star, further vents likewise release pungent vapour into the air. The ground itself is rent in place where the brass-clad monstrosities forged beneath have torn their way to the surface. Beyond this the ground is flat, blasted and harrowed, save for the ash-caked remains of the once verdant forests that surrounded Morr’s keep.
Armies
The Allied side consists of three 5000 point armies: Leopold’s army of the Empire, Anselm’s army of peasant militia, and the Dwarven column. This force also has access to siege engines. Anselm and Leopold do not contribute to the cost of their army.
The Chaos side is one 15000 point force, led by the reborn Paragon of Slaughter. The Chaos force must contain a Daemon host of no more than 1000 points to defend the Daemon’s Nest, and at least one Daemonmsith of Khorne.
Deployment
To Weiss’ left stood a lean figure armed and armoured as a warrior priest, although he no longer identified himself as such. Indeed, he had hammered from his steel grey plate all sigil or ornamentation that might once have identified his station as a harbinger of the word of Sigmar. Although Leopold might once have pursued his rigid code of purity and questioned such an act, he no longer cared: he had weighed the man’s worth and found him deserving of a place at his side. The man’s features were deep-etched and paternal, an arched brow presiding over a prominent hawk-like nose, with deep set eyes of blue casting a steady stare. The face of a true demagogue, Weiss thought, yet he nonetheless respected the man.
Anselm had earned his place solely by dint of his actions. When the commanders of the southern regiments had shown their true mettle and fled at the first sight of a black banner, Anselm had held. He had rallied the people to defend themselves when their army would not. He had turned the tide through sheer force of will, and revealed himself both a true leader of men and a cunning strategist. Now he commanded a host double the size of Weiss’ own, made up entirely of peasant militia, deserters and survivors from the shattered armies of Morr: farmers; smiths; poachers and townsfolk. All ready to follow their prophet into the very jaws of doom.
“Our faith is our strength, Leopold”, Anselm said, as if guessing Leopold’s train of thought, “but as with all things, without direction it withers. We cannot dwell here any longer.” The voice of the man was clipped, brittle, yet cold and hard as a new-forged blade. “This storm has been sent by the gods themselves to cover our approach and drive fear into the hearts of our enemies. My army believes this, so I believe this. And whilst their fervor holds they are all the more potent. We will need every drop of their fanaticism and avenging spirit to defeat this foe.”
Leopold found himself being swayed by the man. Even he, who had preached before the Arch-Lector himself and girded the faith of thousands of believers from Altdorf to Sylvania, found himself swayed. It was not hard to see why the people worshipped their prophet. Yet Leopold had learned hard lessons of late about allowing his religious fervor to overcome his better judgement. His hand strayed to the panther-head clasp sewn into the leather greave of his sword-arm, reminding himself of the warriors who no longer drew breath to serve the Empire because of his lack of battlefield experience.
“They will not thank you if we fail.” Anselm said quietly, again reading his commander’s mien.
“They will not thank you at all!” growled the figure at his right. “They are with their ancestors now, hallowed and revered in the feasting halls of the gods. And we have much to do ere we join them!” Half a head shorter than his companions, yet half again as broad, Leopold’s second companion looked every inch a Dwarven vagabond. His tattered and weathered travelling cloak was thrown back over well-worn leather breeches and a coat of dark mail. A simple ranger. At least this was what the ignorant and unwary might think, which is how the Dwarf wanted it. Leopold knew better, for he knew this warrior from leagues of hard travelling in the past weeks. He knew that beneath the cloak the Dwarf’s plate bore runes as old as this region of the Empire. That the leather braids woven into his grey beard and matted hair bore runes of heritage that spoke of honour and bonds of brotherhood that the men of the Empire would only begin to understand. He also know that somewhere within the folds of his master-crafted wargear, a pale blue stone spoke of this Dwarf’s lordship and authority.
A commotion at the door of the tent broke the discussion, as raised voices accompanied the sounds of weapons being drawn. From nowhere a pistol of intricate design appeared in the Dwarf-Lord’s hand, and he moved to block the entrance.
“My Lord”, came a voice from beyond the door. Weiss glanced sharply at Anselm, hearing the edge of panic in the man’s voice. They pushed past the Dwarf and strode out of the tent. Beyond the entrance a ring of armed peasants and soldiers bearing spattering torches stood in a wary ring circling a solitary figure, standing wreathed in the firelight.
The man had once been a knight. His black armour was ornate, but torn and rent in a dozen places, and foul rivulets of caked blood crept like rust from where the folded steel plate had failed. The man’s face was likewise a wreck. One eye was missing, a lurid and festering wound dismal to behold, crowning a series of mottled and blue-black bruises that showed where blows had caved in bone. The man’s hair, black and also caked in a matt of dried blood, hung ragged across the man’s face, concealing further abuse. That he walked at all was a miracle.
The figure became aware of Leopold standing before him. The head snapped up, and a smile of smashed teeth and torn lips slashed the man’s face further. With horror Leopold realized he knew the face.
“Steffan!” he gasped.
“Once, perhaps, but no longer” a voice that may been Steffan’s but sounded from a depth beyond the here and now. “Your saviour is ours.” Leopold recoiled, and drew his blade. “Come, son of Sigmar, we await you,” the voice continued, and the wreck of the once proud hero of Morr turned to address the crowd “We await you all. Return to your home men of Morr – the ‘Nest welcomes you. The soul forge hungers. The Blood God . . .”
The Steffan-thing suddenly froze. Shuddering, it turned on legs seemingly heavy with pain, as if the wracked and wounded body suddenly realized how much destruction had been wrought upon it. It stared at Leopold with its single eye wide with fear and pain. No, not at the Witch Hunter, but beyond him, to the door of the tent. Weiss turned, and from the shadow of the tent a familiar figure strode. Familiar to him, if no one else. The creature was a carved wooden marionette, yet no puppet ever walked free as this one did. The face was a grotesque parody of human features, as if the wood carver had decided to reveal the maladies of the inner mind onto the external form of a twisted man-child. Already pushed to the edges of their nerve, several of the men shrank back at the creature’s appearance. The golem raised a many-fingered hand, and from nowhere fire ignited the limb. It pointed the blazing hand at Steffan.
The effect was instantaneous. Lambent green smoke began to emerge from the wounds in Steffan’s plate and flesh. The whole body shuddered and twitched as if being plucked at by unseen hands, a ghastly and twisted reversal of the player’s art, as the marionette animated the puppeteer. The glowing trail of smoke curled towards the golem, and for an instant the golden flame in its hand burned green before vanishing in a flash. Both the golem and Steffan tumbled to the ground, their limbs suddenly free of the bizarre unlife that animated them.
Weiss and Anselm both rushed to the fallen knight. Unbelievably the remaining eye in the ruined face flickered and opened. “He lives!” whispered Anselm, aghast. Steffan’s wrecked lips began to move and Weiss leaned down to catch the words.
“I have seen it“, he said, “you must know . .”
What further words the man of Morr spoke were drowned by the storm, as the rain drove down into the ring of men and their circle of flame.
Battlefield
The battlefield is the blasted lands surrounding the Daemon’s Nest. Much has changed since the day the Raven’s Nest fell. No mortal now dwells in the blasted keep. The stones weep, and a fell glow emerges from the tortured stones. The children of Chaos, daubed of many hues, patrol its walls, and foul weapons bestride the battlements alongside tortured statues of blood-mad cavorting daemons.
Standing alongside the damned castle a new structure has arisen. The Daemon Forge. This tower with its chimney stack pumping red and black smoke into the polluted air is but the pinnacle of a larger, darker structure beneath the ground. Around it, at the points of the eightfold star, further vents likewise release pungent vapour into the air. The ground itself is rent in place where the brass-clad monstrosities forged beneath have torn their way to the surface. Beyond this the ground is flat, blasted and harrowed, save for the ash-caked remains of the once verdant forests that surrounded Morr’s keep.
Armies
The Allied side consists of three 5000 point armies: Leopold’s army of the Empire, Anselm’s army of peasant militia, and the Dwarven column. This force also has access to siege engines. Anselm and Leopold do not contribute to the cost of their army.
The Chaos side is one 15000 point force, led by the reborn Paragon of Slaughter. The Chaos force must contain a Daemon host of no more than 1000 points to defend the Daemon’s Nest, and at least one Daemonmsith of Khorne.
Deployment
(one must be a Daemonsmith). The Chaos army deploys their entire force first, in both their own deployment zone, and within the Daemon’s Nest and Daemon Forge. One unit only and up to two characters may garrison the Forge, whilst the entire Daemon contingent may occupy the ‘Nest.
The Allied armies then deploy in three waves, which must assigned prior to the Chaos deployment.
The first wave is Anselm’s force of peasant militia, a rag tag collection of survivors from the army of Morr and the people of the regions surrounding the Nest, now whipped into an avenging fury by Anselm’s rhetoric and actions. This force deploys in the forward deployment zone. This deployment may include as much of Anselm’s army only as desired, including characters.
The second wave are the besieging force assigned to re-take the Raven’s Nest. They deploy in the Siege Force Deployment Zone.
Remaining troops form the third wave, and are deployed as normal in the main deployment zone.
Scouts may not be deployed within the ring of vents, as their presence would be instantly detected by the ‘smiths.
The Allied armies then deploy in three waves, which must assigned prior to the Chaos deployment.
The first wave is Anselm’s force of peasant militia, a rag tag collection of survivors from the army of Morr and the people of the regions surrounding the Nest, now whipped into an avenging fury by Anselm’s rhetoric and actions. This force deploys in the forward deployment zone. This deployment may include as much of Anselm’s army only as desired, including characters.
The second wave are the besieging force assigned to re-take the Raven’s Nest. They deploy in the Siege Force Deployment Zone.
Remaining troops form the third wave, and are deployed as normal in the main deployment zone.
Scouts may not be deployed within the ring of vents, as their presence would be instantly detected by the ‘smiths.
Special Rules
Surge
To represent the fervor that Anselm generates amongst the men of the Empire, all Empire units may make a surge move as they charge forward to get grips with their hated foes.
For Each Unit That Declares A Surge, Choose A Number Of Dice You Wish Have The Unit Move Forward (Up To The Limit Indicated On The Table Below). Once This Roll Is Made, Remove The Highest Dice: The Total On The Remaining Dice Equals The Number Of Models That Must Be Removed As Casualties, as the defenses the Forge throws about itself are spent.
The Righteous Horde
To represent the vast horde of Empire citizens at his command, Anselm’s forces may be replenished during the game. At the beginning of any turn, Anselm may bring any core or special infantry unit from his army that has been completely destroyed during the game back into play. The unit is deployed anywhere along the Main Empire Deployment table edge, and may immediately make a move of up to 4D6” as they surge onto the table.
Prior to the start of any Allied turn, Anselm may attempt to sacrifice any unit infantry unit with 6 or less models anywhere on the table by rolling equal to or over the number of remaining models. This includes units who are in combat, but cannot contain characters.
Units successfully sacrificed in this way may immediately be brought back into play at their full strength as if they had been destroyed earlier in the game.
The Daemon’s Nest
The once-proud keep of Raven’s Nest is no longer a place for mortals to dwell. The reality within the walls is shifts as the Realm of Chaos shifts, and allows Daemons to enter the mortal plain freely. This has the following effects:
The Daemon Forge is in actuality a network of chambers and tunnels linking the soul pits and lairs of the Daemonsmiths wherein they shape their unholy creations. Some of these chambers exist beneath the ground of the battlefield, whilst others exist in the insubstantial daemon realm. The only way to destroy the forge is to cut off the connection between the two realms that exists within this structure. Thanks to Black Steffan, the secrets of its destruction have been revealed.
To destroy the Forge, two things must be achieved:
The soul-vents must be destroyed.
To prevent the energies within the Forge laying waste to lands connecting it to the Daemon realm, excess energy is bled off and released in the form of a noxious red-black cloud of vapour from eight vents placed in ritual locations around the soul-forge.To destroy a vent, simply move a model with a Sanctifier (see below) into base contact with the vent itself, and roll a D6. On a 2-6 the vent is destroyed, as the charge blows beneath the earth and seals it off from its connection to the Daemon Realm. On a roll of 1, the charge goes off prematurely – roll on the Sanctifier misfire chart (see below) to see what happens.
If enough vents are destroyed the link to the Daemon Realm will be broken. Roll a 2D3 at the start of the game to determine how many vents need to be destroyed.
Defended vents: The Daemonforge is a near-sentient entity that can manifest defenses to protect itself. After the first vent is destroyed, roll a D6 for each other vent. On an odd roll the vent manifests a protecting claw that strikes any unit attempting to destroy it. Units (friend or foe) moving within 1” of a vent with such a claw take D6 strength 4 hits, distributed as shooting. Providing this damage does not cause the unit to panic, it may attempt to destroy the vent as normal after suffering hits. Units within 1” of an undestroyed vent with claws take hits at the end of each Chaos remaining moves phase if the vent remains intact.
The soul-forge must be destroyed.
The soul forge is a sacrificial pit in which bodies are thrown to have their souls stripped away to be used to fuel the Daemonsmith’s work. This is akin to the process by which Hellcannon strip souls to fuel their fire, but on a much larger scale.The soul forge is constantly burning, and the smoke from its fires is released through a towering chimney stack that has warped and changed with the power flowing through it, before venting into the air.
Destroying The Forge: To destroy the soul forge, a model must drop a Sanctifier (see below) into the pit of souls that drops into the forge fire itself. This will destroy the forge once and for all, by denying it further fuel.
to achieve this a model must get to the soul pit. This is a platform that sits above the forge-fire itself, and can only be accessed through the tower. To reach it, a model must be part of a unit that seizes the tower itself in combat. In the next turn they may move to the pit and deploy the Sanctifier. If there is a Pit-Guardian (a character deployed on the platform before the pit), then this character must be killed before the Sanctifier can be used.
If the Soul Forge is destroyed, then the connection to the Realm of Chaos is severed. Each Daemon unit and character must make an immediate Instability test. Furthermore, the Daemon’s Nest itself will no longer sustain the Daemons within it – they become subject to the normal rules for Instability as the castle begins to return to normal.
The Soul Forge structure consists of two parts:
Sanctifiers
The Sanctifier is a Dwarf-crafted blackpowder bomb blessed by the prayers of Leopold himself before the battle. Every Dwarf and Empire character and unit champion is armed with enough of these devices to last the battle.
To deploy a Sanctifier, see above.
There are occasions when deploying or carrying blackpowder bombs can have its drawbacks! If a model fails to deploy a Sanctifier, or is struck by a flaming attack, then something may go wrong. If the model or the unit he is with is struck by a flaming attack, roll a D6: on a roll of 1 then a Sanctifier may go off.
In either case, roll on the Sanctifier Misfire Table below:
Surge
To represent the fervor that Anselm generates amongst the men of the Empire, all Empire units may make a surge move as they charge forward to get grips with their hated foes.
For Each Unit That Declares A Surge, Choose A Number Of Dice You Wish Have The Unit Move Forward (Up To The Limit Indicated On The Table Below). Once This Roll Is Made, Remove The Highest Dice: The Total On The Remaining Dice Equals The Number Of Models That Must Be Removed As Casualties, as the defenses the Forge throws about itself are spent.
- Forward Deployment Zone - up to 4D6
- Main Deployment Zone - up to 3D6
The Righteous Horde
To represent the vast horde of Empire citizens at his command, Anselm’s forces may be replenished during the game. At the beginning of any turn, Anselm may bring any core or special infantry unit from his army that has been completely destroyed during the game back into play. The unit is deployed anywhere along the Main Empire Deployment table edge, and may immediately make a move of up to 4D6” as they surge onto the table.
Prior to the start of any Allied turn, Anselm may attempt to sacrifice any unit infantry unit with 6 or less models anywhere on the table by rolling equal to or over the number of remaining models. This includes units who are in combat, but cannot contain characters.
Units successfully sacrificed in this way may immediately be brought back into play at their full strength as if they had been destroyed earlier in the game.
The Daemon’s Nest
The once-proud keep of Raven’s Nest is no longer a place for mortals to dwell. The reality within the walls is shifts as the Realm of Chaos shifts, and allows Daemons to enter the mortal plain freely. This has the following effects:
- Daemon Units do not suffer Daemonic Instability whilst wholly within the walls. They count as Stubborn as per usual, but cannot 'Panic' if they fail a break test. They simply retreat to the nearest available section. If there is nowhere to go, the 'fleeing' daemons are instead destroyed. Any confusion about flee moves should be resolved with a D6 roll off.
- The size and strength of the Daemons’ Nest protects the Daemons within from missile file. For all missiles that do not use BS to hit, roll a D6 for each shot. On a 1-4 the Daemon’s Nest itself is struck, and the shot is discarded. On a 5 or 6, apply the effects of the shot to the troops within the area of the ‘Nest that was targeted, distributing damage as per normal.
The Daemon Forge is in actuality a network of chambers and tunnels linking the soul pits and lairs of the Daemonsmiths wherein they shape their unholy creations. Some of these chambers exist beneath the ground of the battlefield, whilst others exist in the insubstantial daemon realm. The only way to destroy the forge is to cut off the connection between the two realms that exists within this structure. Thanks to Black Steffan, the secrets of its destruction have been revealed.
To destroy the Forge, two things must be achieved:
The soul-vents must be destroyed.
To prevent the energies within the Forge laying waste to lands connecting it to the Daemon realm, excess energy is bled off and released in the form of a noxious red-black cloud of vapour from eight vents placed in ritual locations around the soul-forge.To destroy a vent, simply move a model with a Sanctifier (see below) into base contact with the vent itself, and roll a D6. On a 2-6 the vent is destroyed, as the charge blows beneath the earth and seals it off from its connection to the Daemon Realm. On a roll of 1, the charge goes off prematurely – roll on the Sanctifier misfire chart (see below) to see what happens.
If enough vents are destroyed the link to the Daemon Realm will be broken. Roll a 2D3 at the start of the game to determine how many vents need to be destroyed.
Defended vents: The Daemonforge is a near-sentient entity that can manifest defenses to protect itself. After the first vent is destroyed, roll a D6 for each other vent. On an odd roll the vent manifests a protecting claw that strikes any unit attempting to destroy it. Units (friend or foe) moving within 1” of a vent with such a claw take D6 strength 4 hits, distributed as shooting. Providing this damage does not cause the unit to panic, it may attempt to destroy the vent as normal after suffering hits. Units within 1” of an undestroyed vent with claws take hits at the end of each Chaos remaining moves phase if the vent remains intact.
The soul-forge must be destroyed.
The soul forge is a sacrificial pit in which bodies are thrown to have their souls stripped away to be used to fuel the Daemonsmith’s work. This is akin to the process by which Hellcannon strip souls to fuel their fire, but on a much larger scale.The soul forge is constantly burning, and the smoke from its fires is released through a towering chimney stack that has warped and changed with the power flowing through it, before venting into the air.
Destroying The Forge: To destroy the soul forge, a model must drop a Sanctifier (see below) into the pit of souls that drops into the forge fire itself. This will destroy the forge once and for all, by denying it further fuel.
to achieve this a model must get to the soul pit. This is a platform that sits above the forge-fire itself, and can only be accessed through the tower. To reach it, a model must be part of a unit that seizes the tower itself in combat. In the next turn they may move to the pit and deploy the Sanctifier. If there is a Pit-Guardian (a character deployed on the platform before the pit), then this character must be killed before the Sanctifier can be used.
If the Soul Forge is destroyed, then the connection to the Realm of Chaos is severed. Each Daemon unit and character must make an immediate Instability test. Furthermore, the Daemon’s Nest itself will no longer sustain the Daemons within it – they become subject to the normal rules for Instability as the castle begins to return to normal.
The Soul Forge structure consists of two parts:
- The Tower acts as a normal watch tower, and follows all the Normal rules for these, including being charged from any side. To charge the tower, models must be able to reach the Tower sections themselves - the soul pit does not count. models within the tower receive the same protection as models within the Daemon’s Nest (see above). Only fifteen models may be within this section - a unit that seizes the tower may send fifteen models into it if they successfully take the tower: these models split to form their own unit whilst in the tower only, and may be rejoined when they leave (if their original unit is still there!).
- The Soul-Pit is a tower filled with flame that vents from the chimney stack above. Models cannot be ‘inside’ this part of the structure. Only a single model may stand as Pit-Guardian. This model receives no protection from missile attacks that use BS, but other attacks will only strike the model on a D6 roll of 6, to reflect the difficulty of striking a single model in such a precarious position.
Sanctifiers
The Sanctifier is a Dwarf-crafted blackpowder bomb blessed by the prayers of Leopold himself before the battle. Every Dwarf and Empire character and unit champion is armed with enough of these devices to last the battle.
To deploy a Sanctifier, see above.
There are occasions when deploying or carrying blackpowder bombs can have its drawbacks! If a model fails to deploy a Sanctifier, or is struck by a flaming attack, then something may go wrong. If the model or the unit he is with is struck by a flaming attack, roll a D6: on a roll of 1 then a Sanctifier may go off.
In either case, roll on the Sanctifier Misfire Table below:
Victory Conditions
The only way for the Allied Forces to wipe the scourge of Chaos from their lands once and for all is to destroy both the Daemon’s Nest and the Daemon Forge beneath it.
If the Daemon’s Nest is occupied solely by Empire forces at the end of 8 turns, and the Daemon Forge has been destroyed, the Empire forces achieve Total Victory. Chaos is defeated, and the lands of Morr will again return to the peaceful vales they once were.
If the Nest has been taken and the Forge’s vents have been destroyed, the Empire achieve a Minor Victory. The forces of Chaos are weakened to the point where they can no longer be reinforced, and can be defeated with further assaults from the armies of neighbouring states.
To secure their foothold, the Chaos forces must destroy the enemy’s experienced commanders: those who have fought and defeated them in this campaign.
If both Leopold and Anselm have been killed at the end of 8 turns, then the Chaos forces achieve a Minor Victory. If they are able to kill both commanders AND prevent the Empire from taking both the Daemon’s Nest and the Daemon Forge, then they achieve Total Victory.
If both sides achieve an equal level of victory, the game is a draw. The war against Chaos continues.
The only way for the Allied Forces to wipe the scourge of Chaos from their lands once and for all is to destroy both the Daemon’s Nest and the Daemon Forge beneath it.
If the Daemon’s Nest is occupied solely by Empire forces at the end of 8 turns, and the Daemon Forge has been destroyed, the Empire forces achieve Total Victory. Chaos is defeated, and the lands of Morr will again return to the peaceful vales they once were.
If the Nest has been taken and the Forge’s vents have been destroyed, the Empire achieve a Minor Victory. The forces of Chaos are weakened to the point where they can no longer be reinforced, and can be defeated with further assaults from the armies of neighbouring states.
To secure their foothold, the Chaos forces must destroy the enemy’s experienced commanders: those who have fought and defeated them in this campaign.
If both Leopold and Anselm have been killed at the end of 8 turns, then the Chaos forces achieve a Minor Victory. If they are able to kill both commanders AND prevent the Empire from taking both the Daemon’s Nest and the Daemon Forge, then they achieve Total Victory.
If both sides achieve an equal level of victory, the game is a draw. The war against Chaos continues.