[ARKHAM EVENT] Fantasy mini-con - Sat 10th July 2010

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Re: [ARKHAM EVENT] Fantasy mini-con - Sat 10th July 2010

Post  japehlio on Fri Jul 09 2010, 04:39

In fact, I have a thought. You want I can bring up my 3rd ed copy of Talisman???
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Re: [ARKHAM EVENT] Fantasy mini-con - Sat 10th July 2010

Post  Guest on Fri Jul 09 2010, 04:41

japehlio wrote:Hells no! If you want, I can bring my Camera up to for more pics and send em to you after...

Great, yes, the more photos to choose from the better!

Thanks
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Re: [ARKHAM EVENT] Fantasy mini-con - Sat 10th July 2010

Post  weeivor on Fri Jul 09 2010, 07:22

Ahhhhhhhh too many games - but you must bring Talisman Rocking oh, yes - you must bring it!

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Re: [ARKHAM EVENT] Fantasy mini-con - Sat 10th July 2010

Post  Guest on Sat Jul 10 2010, 03:08

to set the scene for the huge scale Warhammer Fantasy battles tomorrow at Arkham, here is a little battlefield background written by our own Jamie (hiding is writing light under a bushel) Camlin....

TURN THE GREEN TIDE RED

Prince Alren sat on the back of the noble dragon Ar-Bael as he surveyed the war host lain out before him. It was a great army, the likes of which Ulthuan could scarcely muster in these dark days, but for high elven people the need was greater still. Arrayed in front of his forces was the settlement the humans had once called Freestat, a simple walled town in the infamous Border Princes region just outside the so called ‘Empire of Man’

Alren had marvelled at the race of man. That such creatures could not only survive but prosper in these dark times, whilst being so factitious and mistrusting of one another, was a wonder in itself. The High Elf shook his head in despair. Truly it was a sign of these dire times that the humans had prospered so. If only the elves had the numbers to do the same, he thought bitterly, for the glory of the elves had long since passed and their race was slow to replace their dead. The population of the elves was ever in decline since their war with the dwarfs. Ironic then that it was a relic of such times that brought him and this glorious host to this benighted continent. The already tenuous diplomatic relations held with the humans of these lands had been stretched to the limit to allow such a large force to enter their territory, for none of it size had stepped foot on these lands since the last incursion of the dread forces of chaos. However much the cost, the prize here was worth the lives of every elf here and each warrior present knew it. Alren put an end to his sombre musings and cast his gaze once more to the walled fort, now a shallow husk of its former self.

Freestat, no longer a bastion of human independence, had fallen to the loathsome and contemptible orcs. The vile green skins cared nothing for the quest for peace and harmony that the other sentient races of the old world sought. They craved only war and conquest to slake their vile lusts and now the town of Freestat had become a standing testimony to their barbaric natures. The orcs now controlled the fortified town, using it as a base from which to launch raids on the other fiefdoms in the area. No matter how dire the threat this orc base posed to the realms of man, such trivial concerns were not for the elves of Ulthuan. No, they were here to claim back the artefacts left here by their ancestors before they were driven from this land. Fleeing to their island homeland in order to escape the senseless persecution of the dwarfs, the elves had to leave many of their most precious treasures behind. And as a testimony to their ignorance and greed the savage humans of the time had built their first settlements on the ruins of what once was a great and noble keep of the High Elven race. The thought of their ancient homes being desecrated infuriated the nobleman, but this land was no longer their own, and the lesser races were now its inheritors.

But now was not the time for Alren to dwell on the follies of the past, now was the time for the elves to return to their keep and take back that which was rightfully theirs.

Alren met the gaze of the hateful orc warchief, mounted as he was on the back of his own flying mount, a fierce and savage wyvern. The green brute was gathering his own warband which seemed equally as vast as the elves’ own. In place of the leadership with which most generals commanded their forces the orc was using threats and taunts to organise his army. Alren knew only the strongest of orcs could maintain control of their own kind, and fear of his anger was the most important tool at the war chief’s disposal. However no matter how disorganised, when faced with a common foe the orcs would stand as one to repel all invaders.

With a resigned grimace the prince signalled for the advance to begin. The price of victory would be steep and many lives, both orc and elven, would be lost. But if necessary, the elves were prepared to float their precious heirlooms home on a river of blood….
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