Sælir Hugarar

Ég hef oft spáð í hvað fólk gerir fyrir bardaga. Segjum að þú og vinur þinn ætli að hittast og spila leik. Hugsið þið upp einhverja senu sem skýrir af hverju herjirnir tveir eru að berjast (og af hverju þeir nota ákveðið scenario)?

Ég geri þetta oftast, þó að það nái sjaldnast að komast út fyrir minn haus. Þess vegna fór ég að leika mér og skrifaði nokkrar málsgreinar fyrir hvern bardaga í seinna hópbardagakvöldinu um daginn. Svo var reyndar galli að sumir mættu ekki og létu ekki vita svo sögurnar pössuðu ekki alveg allar.

Mér datt samt í hug að skella nokkrum hérna inn, bara þremur af þeim sem urðu að veruleika þetta kvöld. Svo set ég smá texta aftanvið um hvernig fór…

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Bardagi 1, Björgvin (Vampire Counts) gegn Friðriki (High Elves). Scenario: Capture.

Damnation. Prince Ellerran Rosewood was in a particularly foul mood as he put on his lion cloak. It was bad enough to have to lead the army into the Badlands on a quest dreamed up by a mage from the White Tower, but having to take orders from one of the wizard while the forces were in battle was a disgrace.

He had written to the Admiral the night after the horrible retreat from the subverted dwarfs, demanding an explanation, and that this uncertainty about his leadership should be quelled immediately. He had been expecting the great eagle with the response for two days. Surely they would let him command the troops in any hostile situations?

Afaliel, the beautiful mage who had authority in the last battle entered Ellerran’s tent silently. In a quiet voice she told him of the remnants of an undead army on the march, heading for a standing stone near the army’s camp. The aim of the small undead army was clear to Afaliel.

By activating the dormant arcane powers of the ancient standing stone with black magic, the vampires and necromancers would be able to boost their magical abilities to raise an army of immense proportions in a single night. The number of armies that had fought around the stone in the past centuries would provide plenty of material.

Prince Ellerran was not pleased with the prospect of having the mage in command of the army for a second time, and this time against the undead. His men would need to be sure of their leader in such a battle. To add to his irritation, that annoyingly smug, yet disgustingly attractive Afaliel had not expressed any regret about failing so miserably in commanding the army against that strange band of dwarfs. She clearly had a future in this business…

The time was almost at hand. The remainder of the army of skeletons, zombies and wights at Malfred’s command was not enough to make an attempt to take on the might of the chaos warbands. The standing stone up ahead was truly what he needed to rectify that problem. The elves opposing him were inconsequential. They would only serf as a (well-dressed) group of zombies for his legion. Malfred couldn’t resist a small cackle. Soon, very soon, the Eye of Sheerian would be his. Nothing, NOTHING could stop him now, he was on the verge of becoming the most powerful undead in history. Settra, Nagash, Kemmler, they were all amateurs. AMATURES. He cackled again. Who cared about a little cackle. It was refreshing…

The armies stood motionless in the moonlight. The standing stone was between them, and both commanders knew that they would have a difficult fight on their hand. Just then, a great eagle landed next to the elven command group. With a shaking hand Prince Ellerron opened the sealed letter from the Admiralty. Who would lead the elves today?



The elfs were in full retreat. Prince Ellerron limped along, his fine lion cloak bloody and torn. He cursed the Admiralty out loud for the shortsightedness. He would lodge a formal complaint to the king himself upon his return to Ulthuan. Why on earth did they let that incompetent mage run the show??!?

Meenwhile, Malfred and his apprentices were busy raising countless hordes of undead. Malfred was particularly pleased with his new elven zombie regiment. They would make a fine addition to his army…

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Bardagi 2, Kai (Lizardmen) gegn Brjáni (O&G). Scenario: Breakthrough, lizards attacking.

Mage Lord Zoul sensed what could be the presence of the Eye of Sheerian not far from where he defeated that Tzeentchian wizard a few suns ago. He telepathically ordered his army to make for a likely cave complex, and sent a telepathic message for his reinforcements to join him as soon as possible to mop up the rest of the greenskins. His force would break through the lines of the goblinoids and let their reinforcements mop up the enemy while they purged the cave complex.

The skinks reported goblins in the area and it was wise to bring overwhelming force to bear, as the greenskin would be trapped in the valley when the lizardmen advanced. They would continue the millennia old slaughtering of the greenskins. They had no place in the plans of the Old Ones.

Warboss Dazgul was full. Humies always tasted good, and they needed very little preparation. Not like the dwarfs who needed to be stewed for hours before eating to get the taste of stone out of the meat. After defeating the human mercenaries and looting their bodies the tribe had taken their loot to a small valley where they could make camp and fight over the spoils of war.

Shagrat the goblin wolfrider had a dilemma. He did see the little lizardy-creatures sneaking about at the entrance to the valley, but he didn’t know who to tell. If he told his boss, he would get no credit for the discovery. If he tried to get close to the warboss himself to tell him, he might get eaten for bringing news of the greenskins being trapped. In the end he decided that his boss would have to take the credit or the blame for the news. The boss then went to tell the warboss. Shortly after, Shagrat was the new boss. Life was good.

The greenskin army had assembled around Dazgul in the middle of the valley. In front of them was a host of scaly creatures, lead by what looked like a bloated meal carried by four lizards. A tribute for Dazgul da Pillager surely. He would eat well tonight…



Dazgul licked his fingers. Many moons ago he ate a humie nobleman with a big helmet who told him that in his home county, people ate frogs, not humans. Now Dazgul understood. He always thought the humie meant small frogs, but everybody knew they were too small for anything bigger than a snotling. He now understood that there were large frogs around that made good eating. The legs were particularly good. And the politeness of the lizardmen to bring him this offering…

The small group of skink scribes gathered around the skink shaman. This was a disaster. Mage Lord Zoul had been lost, eaten by that horrible greenskin and his bosses. They had no way of telling anybody. Just then a wolf howled nearby. The pitifully few skinks huddled closer and shivered as the baying came closer to their hiding place.

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Bardagi 3, Hákon (skaven) gegn Össuri (Lizardmen). Scenario: Capture

After driving off a local tribe of orcs and goblins Snarsnik’s skaven were marching on. They had left their tunnels and quick-marched overland after seeing falling sky-stone land nearby. With any luck they would find this stone and with a bit more luck it would be rich with warpstone. This would make Snarsnik more powerful than ha had been before attempting that botched assassination. He had been in exile for two years, hiding from his enemies. Now he marched openly, if the stone was full of warpstone it would be worth it. And if it wasn’t, he could always run away again.

The chaos-humans could keep the gem-thing, he wanted the warpstone. He would be able to afford both more rat ogres and possibly another pair of assassins to send after his arch-rival. It was only the small matter of harvesting the warpstone…

Mage Lord Kreoli had not given any commands to his loyal skink attendants since the battle against the undead almost a week ago. The skinks continued his plan anyway, and headed along the old layline towards the abandoned city.

The comet hitting the earth so near last night was a bad omen. Sotek was angry and the little skinks could not understand why. So they decided that the Mage Lord’s earlier command that “strange happenings” should be “looked into” definitely applied here, and diverted the army from the layline towards the fallen comet. The Mage Lord did not break his concentration to correct them, strengthening the skink’s resolve that they were doing the right thing.

The gutter runners spotted the first skinks when their leader fell face-down with an arrow in his back. Undaunted, they calmly and rationally decided (after loosing a few more of their number to the unseen enemy) that the right thing to do was definitely to tell lord Snarsnik about this encounter. So they withdrew in good order (translation: ran away as fast as they could in sheer terror) to give the army the news.

Both armies manoeuvred into position. The lizardmen were determined to kill every single rat-spawn and deny them the opportunity to claim the comet. The skaven on the other hand planned to slow the lizardmen down with expendable troops, and meanwhile dislodge the comet and bring it to safety. Now if only they had a few more slaves to send to battle…



The skink scribes of Mage Lord Kreoli chirped in excitement. The army had performed wonderfully, and what few skaven still survived had fled and were being chased by skinks through the night. The ploy of the great Slann had worked perfectly. They had lured the rat-spawn in and used the skinks to secure the landed comet. When it was secure, the sauruses broke through the rat-scum lines and held the meteor. Sotek be praised. At sunrise they would sacrifice many rat-spawn!

Snarsnik licked his wounds. Who would have thought such a few kroxigores could put up such resistance? All was lost, he failed to get the warpstone, and he had lost most of his army. But he had a plan. He would go back and… The green tip of a warpstone-enhanced blade went clean through Snarsnik’s throat. Snarsnik let out a small gurgle. A change of leadership was in the air…