Sunday, 21 September 2014

Lord Sechnaill's Crusade: The Undead Menace

Lord Sechnaill is back in the saddle!  Took some time away from the Bretonnians to give the Ogre Kingdoms a whirl in a couple of tournaments (ok, so I really just wanted to run triple Giants at an event), and now I'm back amongst our noble ranks with another battle report.

Sincerest apologies, I didn't get any photos again.  Next week, I'll have to have a great big marker reminding me to take more damned photos.

Lord Sechnaill was reclined in the hall of his vassal, sipping on a fine red when the messenger burst imperiously through the door.  "My Lords!  We are under attack!" the messenger cried in a panic.  After calming the man down, Lord Sechnaill started to piece the tale together.  The Undead had been seen to be gathering, two great forces of Undead infantry, backed up by vicious Black Knights.  They were lead by a trio of Vampires and had been hacking down peasants as they marched, raising them up to form their own zombie forces.  With some more questions and some crude drawings it was also determined that these were the very knights who had defected to the undead forces so recently...

"Gather the men, and the peasants.  We ride out at once to crush this menace."

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Lord Sechnaill's Crusade: Back in the Saddle

Lord Sechnaill surveyed what previously had been a peaceful, craggy valley where he and his men were marching towards battle.  These were grave times, with Bretonnia under constant attack from undead forces, and fell stirrings in the north.  Rumours of a great Daemon army enough to have any Errant dreaming of Glory and every Questing Knight sharpening his blade and praying for the Lady's guidance.  War had returned to Bretonnia and Lord Sechnaill was going to see to it that his lance drove deep into the heart of the beast.

The route he was to take, however, had been overrun with the sudden appearance of dark forests, bristling with poisonous bracken.  Something had stirred up the forces of Loren and he had the unfortunate suspicion that they blamed him.  Raising his sword, he bellowed to his troops to form up and get the Pilgrims to stop drinking.  Time to march.