John and I managed to get a few games of Warhammer Skirmish in on Saturday. We play very informally, no points values, we just throw down what looks good and makes sense for what ever back story we make up.
For this game we decided that a griffin had ransacked an isolated alpine dwarf mining camp. After destroying the black powder stores, and feasting on the dairy goat, the griffin found Freyja, the camp brew frau, and kidnapped her. Returning from a long day of mining, the dwarfs discovered the carnage, and worse, the brewmaster was missing! Around the same time, a wandering giant slayer named Lokki the Unlucky strolled into the decimated camp. Thrilled at the idea of meeting a glorious death, Lokki joined the rescue party. Enraged by the thought of impending sobriety, the dwarfs set out to slay the monster and rescue Freyja.
The forces were as follows:
1 Giant Slayer
5 Crossbow Dwarfs
1 Imperial Griffin
Prospector Thori swung his heavy pick, it made contact, slamming into the creatures’ chest. With a deafening screech the griffin flew into the air, the great gust of wind from its’ wings knocked two dwarfs to the ground. Crashing back to earth, two miners were caught in its’ crushing talons. Before the remaining miners had a chance to react, its’ claws ripped through their heavy mail, spilling more dwarf blood. Thori parried a strike, but his pick was wrenched from his hands, a second blow caught him in the head. He slumped to the ground in a crumpled heap.
Turning from its’ kill, the beasts’ eyes locked on Dorin. As the griffin flew at Dorin, a crossbow bolt caught the it under the wing. A spasm of pain shot through its’ body. The behemoth let out a ear piercing cry as it crashed into the earth, bowling over Dorin, and knocking the dwarf out cold.
With a sickening crunch Folki saw Gargrim crushed beneath the monstrosity. Folki raised his crossbow and fired a bolt. The monster reared as the shaft sank deep into its’ eye. Its’ death scream turned to a wheezing gurgle as it toppled to the ground.
Blood began pooling around its’ corpse as Folki made his way to the nest. The ground surrounding it was littered with bones and scraps of rotting flesh. The vile stench threatened to overwhelm him. Shouldering his weapon he peered over the edge, he could see the form of Freyja laying among the branches. Her golden hair was matted with blood, but he could see she was still breathing…
This game was a ton of fun. I really thought the griffin was going to take the day, as shot after shot failed to wound him. John was a great sport, allowing me to shoot at the griffin even when he was engaged in combat. The only catch being if a one was rolled to hit, the bolt hit one of the dwarfs instead. I just love close games like this. If that crossbow bolt had not wounded it, the griffin would have torn the last living dwarf to ribbons in the following turn. Grungni was with them this fight. Many thanks to John for bringing his imperial griffin model, and the hard cider.