As a faction, the energy of Complete Battle: Warhammer 3‘s Bretonnia lies of their knightly calvary. The peasant infantry is principally simply there to squishily maintain the enemy in place for prices. Nevertheless, I am feeling revolutionary at the moment, so we’re staging a serf rebellion. Let’s have a look at how lengthy we final. Fairly easy guidelines right here, then. No knights. No horses. Conquer the whole lot of Bretonnia. Defeat each horse I see in one-on-one fight.
We had been in a foul approach. Rats to the south. Goblins to the east. A dwindling stockpile of gold reserves. Worst of all, the girl of the lake herself had shunned us, stripping us of her blessing for no different motive than the cheeky little bit of cowardly retreating we might executed from Masif Orcal. No appreciation for self-preservation ways, that one.
No appreciation for our courageous refusal to autoresolve, both. Chivalry? Extra like chiver-me, as in shiver me timbers I want I’d simply performed Vampire Coast once more as an alternative of being caught with these rubbish peasants for the total run. Regardless of. Our noble mission to liberate the land from horses should proceed. You possibly can lead each horse in Bretonnia to water, however we cannot get fooled by each horse in Bretonnia once more. As a result of we will homicide them.
The plan was to carry up safely at Fort Carcassonne for a spell whereas we construct up our army, which was going high-quality. Nicely, even. An particularly chipper peasant commented that we we’re “actually again within the saddle”, and whereas it was heartening to see such an enchancment in morale, we did sadly should execute him for utilizing a banned horse simile. With a lot of our roster unavailable, we settled on constructing a silly amount of trebuchets, in addition to filling out a secondary military with extra disposable chaff. Sorry, sorry. Stalwart revolutionary proletariat. To throw into the meat grinder.
We had been simply finalising plans to go again to Masif Orcal, when pungent Ikkit Claw raised his Ikkit paw and opened his Ikkit maw to declare Ikkit battle, which was simply the form of Ikkit bawbagerry we did not have time for simply now. After a number of turns ready round in ambush to try to outrat the rats, we needed to decide. We wanted to battle one thing as a result of our cash was working out quick, and we weren’t sturdy sufficient to separate our forces. Again to Masif Orcal it was. We promoted the fort janitor to captain of the garrison, gifted him a coin on a little bit of string with ‘anti-nuke amulet. Very magic don’t promote.’ carved into it, and buggered off.
The gobbos had been out in pressure, though they’d organized their armies in such a approach in order that the primary half of the battle was simply towards a single warboss. We chucked a number of rocks at him for a bit, which was very humorous but in addition an enormous waste of excellent rocks, so we determined to attend till the remainder of the goblins confirmed up.
And present up they did. Plus some trolls. Plus a large. Plus about fifty pump wagons. In our favour, we had the trebuchets and several other hundred archers, protected by a mass of destitute meat shields who had been every promised a hearty trough of evenly salted gruel in the event that they survived, and an open grave full of ripe manure in the event that they did not.
A track of their hearts and a dream of full bellies of their empty heads, the frontline held out surprisingly nicely towards the few trolls that made it via our arrow volleys, aided by heals from the Fey and Liora Hoofsbane. I took word at this level of the archers shouting ‘unfastened’ as an alternative of ‘hearth’, which I am certain will make no less than three nerds very blissful however did little to reassure me when the pumpwagons began piling in and broke via to the trebuchets.
Thankfully, we might saved some infantry in reserve. Pitchforks do little towards pumpwagons, however you possibly can gum up their wheels actual good in the event you maintain sending waves of ravenous farmers immediately at them. The trebuchets had been freed up lengthy sufficient to swing the battle in our favour, and we pulled via. “We’ll eat like horses tonight lads,” cheered the top trebuchet engineer, who was recommended on his exemplary efficiency and heroism in battle, then swifty executed for utilizing a banned horse simile. Masif Orcal fell briefly order. The style of victory nonetheless candy on our tongues, we started to contemplate the logistics of creating a big sufficient amount of cheese to persuade the rats to go away us alone. And in addition, perhaps, to assist us homicide our fellow Bretonnians…
