to put an action marker on a figure- to stone
a marked figure- stoned

Same here. It's one of the more evil strategies. Easy to fake, but hard to truly master.

they arent used bcuz people "overplay them" but bcuz of there durability or lack there of...after 3 clicks of damage you can see a dramatic drop in attack from 12 to 6 and damage from 3 to 1 as well as losing its WP...and at a whopping 30pts for the lvl 3 its no wonder why you dont see nightstalkers in big tourneys...

i guess it all depends on the player and wheather or not he can use the nightstalker effectively and without getting hurt...

just my two cents...

why would you let them play with an army of the best fig in the game???

Dawn rose over the fetid moors, and Roland Steel was not in a good mood. Come to think of it, he hadn't been in a good mood for months. Not since he had fled the Empire in the wake of Rayden Marz being declared a traitor. As a fellow Warlord serving the Atlantis Guild Rayden Marz had been his friend, companion and sponsor at several stages of his career and it gnawed at Roland's soul that he had not been able to help him in his hour of need. And now, Roland Steel, the Bastard of Elchavel, was reduced to living off the land, mere brigandage where once he had been a powerful warlord at the head of crack troops of men and machines.

Something was definitely wrong in the capital, but as a provincial Warlord visiting the floating city above Tashal without his army, he had been unable to do anything about it. The stink of decay and corruption was beginning to leak out from under the Empire's waistcoat, and Roland had decided that discretion and quietly slipping out of the floating city was his smartest course of action. During the uprising which accompanied Marz's escape from the so-called trial charade the rulers of the Empire had put him through things had been quite chaotic. He had heard that Marz had used one of the outlawed "magic spikes" to effect his escape, and planned on fleeing to the north, intending to make his way back to his home province around Lorkin.

Roland Steel had gathered those of his men who would follow him - and there weren't many - and headed southeast into the Ilmen Marsh. It wasn't pretty country, and if he didn't do something, even his loyalists would desert him, but he needed time to think and to plan. Kaldor was a big place, and with guild control rapidly disintegrating, the troops loyal to the puppet Prophet wouldn't bother to come all this way, they'd be far too busy closer to the capital. Plus, he'd hoped to avoid any conflicts with Sect or League forces. It was a good plan. It was just too bad the Sect didn't know it.

A force of his, led by his right hand lieutenant Altem Graylin met the forces of the accursed Lord Zig (a minor Necromancer Sect warlord who obviously was hoping to sneak into Kaldor and cause trouble) near Walden Pond. Normally, an engagement like this would be swift and decisive, but the particular battle was made chaotic by the presence of two other small forces. Later, spies reported that the squads belonged to two warlords from the East known only as "The Dean" and "The Kevin". Although The Bastard's forces won the day, he hated the fact that the two unknown warlords had surprised his men, by being in the area of Walden Pond in the first place, and by escaping to the east. Rumour had it that they continued squabbling amongst themselves as they traveled towards the rising sun, though whether they swung north towards the Rebel stronghold of Azadmere or whether they headed south to Thay Steel couldn't say. "As long as they keep fighting amongst themselves" thought Steel "better than than turning back and harassing my current ragtag collection of troops.

Yurg, his faithful Grave Digger, let him know that another had taken the field that day, no doubt under command of the dark lord Zig. No doubt that accounted for his fielding as strong a forces by the end of the long skirmish as he had at the start. It wouldn't matter. To hell with his Necromancer hordes! Roland WOULD carve out a place for his men to live and prosper, he just needed time to think and a place to ride out the winter.

Rumours filtered down of fighting in the north. The Juggernauts, some army under the banner of "The Knights of Purity" (although there were conflicting reports about their exact identity) and other unidentified groups skirmished near the Sorkin Mountains.

A second skirmish with Lord Zig's dark forces resulted in another victory, Roland's elite gunnery unit laying waste to some of the hated rebel boomers serving the dark side. Their kind had brought about the current troubles, their kind was to blame and even more so than the bone dancers and the tree huggers would be marked for destruction. To even think that they would assume to bring down the great Empire by assassinating the Emperor with their fell black powder weapons was more than Roland could bear. They deserve death! And death they shall have. It might take years, but if fate was willing, Roland Steel would be the one in command of the forces which assaulted the rebel fortress at Azadmere.

But all this paled beside the current target of his ire. A squad of Elementals, renegades from their own League, had broken away from his army as they marched south and returned to Walden Pond. And been massacred by some of Lord Zig's new recruits. They should have expected to find the bone dancers digging their way through the Walden Pond fields. Who else but those fell warriors would return to a battlefield they'd been trounced on in hopes of winning the day in the end by reclaiming the corpses of their twice dead legions? And it had stalled his army's progress south when he had had to dispatch Yurg back to Walden Pond to pick up the pieces. Had they been Wood Golems, Roland probably would have burned them to the ground on the spot. Several times. But how did one punish a Living Elemental?

Things were at peace now. Cautious feelers had been received from a couple of the northern warlords regarding prisoner exchanges, vague future alliances, the usual claptrap. Even Lord Zig had calmed down after his victory of the bruiser Elemental squad and listened to some overtures. Who knows where these talks would lead? Just like the forces of darkness to sidle up to you after they've kicked your ### around a battlefield pretending to make nice.

One thing seemed certain. Steel had to find a place to hole up, and it had to be a place better than this swamp. The Elemental League controlled the Anadel highlands to the east, the Black Rock Rebels controlled the passes through the Sorkin Mountains to the north. As an Atlantean warlord he doubted that his current "persona non-grata" status in the Empire would cut him much slack with forces he had warred with for so many years. Horadir and the Setha Heath (south and south west) were large tracts of land empty but for nomadic farmers, sheep herders, raiders and horse thieves. There wasn't a magestone deposit anywhere there that Steel knew of, and he doubted that the locals even had the rudimentary technology required to plow a field by machine, let alond trade in golem parts. No respite there.

He needed food, shelter, access to mage stone and most of all, he needed some new recruits. His men were ragged. The Atlanteans were holding up ok, and of course Yurg's charges never complained. He had no idea why the elves stayed with him - they only shrugged when he asked and talked about "things they had to do". And the Elementals simply had to go. It was bad for morale to lose, and it was bad for discipline to allow them to wander off and then come back without punishing them severely. But, Roland Steel was desperate.

He had to head back into the empire-controlled lands. His forces would have to take and hold one of the villages owing fealty to Baron Firith of Kobing, since his lands were closest. As Warlord, he would have to hope that the Baron would either be accommodating, tactically inept, or too preoccupied with events in the capital to pay any attention to the loss of one small "speck on the map" town.

Summoning his lieutenants, he pointed to the map. "Dovet" he said. "We shall winter there. Dispatch your scouts, and get the troops ready to move. We're leaving this festering stink hole of a swamp, and I want to be holding that town within a week." [ag]

The fact that the Steamer even has range is a good thing...for one point less you get Magna, with slightly higher attack and NO range...

If Steamer is bad just because of a 10 inch range, that means EVERYTHING with 10 or lower range must be bad. And I don't even wanna know what you think of melee figures...

I think Steamer is great and can pull his own weight easily. Range isn't everything in figures, and just because a ***Gunner can outrange a Steamer doesn't mean that the Steamer isn't worth his points.

Bladegolem-just because you can get a better unique for the same amount of points or less as a Steamer doesn't mean Steamer is bad either...Magus and Wraith are UNIQUES. Meaning they're better than other figures.

** Blade Golem x4
Magus
High Elf General
*** Shade x2

*** Feral Bloodsucker x3
*** Shade x2
Wraith
*** Seething Knight x2
*** Nightstalker
*** Imp

Vladd or Techun
Arcane Draconum

[ag] [ag] [ag] I am apalled! I can't set all these pretty gears into motion anymore?

I only play with my roommate, but I'd like to hear what you think.

Formation 1:
2x * Blade Golem 29
*** Blade Golem 36

Formation 2:
* Demi-magus 22
* Amotep Incinerator 20
*** Amotep Incinerator 27
*** Utem Crossbowman 12

Fodder:
* Shade 12
*** Imp 7
* Imp 5

total : 199 pts

I always start the 2 formations touching, so that I could send the crossbowmen with the Blade Golems as a blocker, or send him with the Incinerators/Demi. It works well aginst my roomate, but sence I can't find anybody else around here (Raleigh, NC) to play with I don't have much experience with anybody else.

Thank you non-the-less Herr.

Down With the Gears...

fjksd;laf ladsfjhadgfasirngt;asurnhioa;esurg;aiuncisatjnkltfsdlgyhso;sroedaurihgudklhaksiurihglkasyfasiluf;aut rithyukujghaoriyr49o25urioewy548ehtjfdsjkfal;kry84y5r8oqwprydfhlsda42hgdsklyosayrwoiuehkjlasdfhdaf


that means "hi!" in gibberish

i truly believe range has the upper hand as of right now...melee fighters need harassers and need to get into b2b...lots of pushing and all sorts of things need to go right in order for it to work while ranged armies just wait and shoot and thats about it...but with WW and there new abilities such as forced march and dodge...i hope it balances it out to where we can honestly say range is niether better nor worse then melee...

Sul stared at the grimoire, in which only moments ago, she had scribbled notes, which spanned almost twenty pages. She constantly surprised herself by the length of time she spent in her studies. Glancing at an hourglass that stood almost six feet in height Sul discovered that she had sat at her desk engrossed in her studies for almost eight days.

"I should refrain from being so isolated," she chided herself. Closing the crackling tome on her desk she stood and stretched herself upright, crackling almost as much as the book had. Sul strolled towards the only opening to the outside world in her study: a small window. It was early in the morning with a gentle mist parting to reveal a fertile land. A small settlement was visible with patches of crops arrayed around it. Sul thought that they were perhaps wheat or rye. It was a fairly young settlement. Being only forty or fifty years since it came into being. But she dwelled upon that for only a moment before she pushed herself away from the window. Muttering about needing supplies. She had just noticed that the candles she used for her studies were all spent to their base. Sul could not remember when they had burned out. It hardly mattered as she could she in the dark just as well as during the day. She would just light candles out of habit. There was comfort in some habits.

Sul left her tower and made her way to the settlement, mentally going over what she needed. She was oblivious to the farmers who blanched at her approach. Tools fell from numb fingers. But no one fled. As she approach what passed as the market area, the hamlet's leader, Famen trotted towards her. Sul observed the man and waited.

"Mistress Sul! It's a pleasure to have you grace us with your presence", Judging by his fidgeting, Sul didn't think he was being completely honest. But he was polite enough to say it anyways. He always greeted her in this manner. Sul was not certain why this formality pleased her. But please her it did.

She stepped closer to Famen and was impressed that he resisted the urge to step back. Not many had the courage to stand so close to a Lich. "I need supplies. Candles, ink, paper and…" she stood for a moment trying to remember what else she wanted. She noticed that her black robes were tattered. When was it that I had this made? She asked herself. Was it twenty or thirty years ago? It proved to be remarkably resilient over the years. But it was time for something new, "I want a new robe. Send for you finest seamstress."

"Yes! Yes of course Mistress!" Famen ran off to gather her supplies. Sul stood in the middle of the market area and looked at the people who were trying to pretend that they themselves were not staring at her. A gentle tug on her tattered robes drew her attention to a little girl whom she had never seen before. "Are you here to eat us?"

The question both surprised and amused Sul, "Why would you think I am here to eat you?"

The girl pointed towards her trembling parents behind her. "My ma and da said that Mistress Sul would eat us if we were bad."

"Were you bad?"

"I think so. I ate a sweet bun my ma made when she told me to wait." Sul marveled at the lack of fear the child showed. She picked the girl up and carried her to her parents.

"Do you think your daughter should be eaten by me for taking a sweet bun when told not to?"

The father and mother looked on the verge of hysteria but the mother managed a weak reply, "No. I'm sure she has learned her lesson." The father could only nod in agreement.

The girl amused herself by sticking her finger between Sul's bleached ribs. Strangely enough it seemed to amuse Sul as well. She gave the child to the parents and turned as Famen returned with a sack of supplies and a young, weary looking, woman who was carrying a bale of purple silk.

"Mistress I have the supplies you asked for and I have brought Chen, our seamstress."

Sul looked upon the silk with interest. A beautiful cloth. The silk was both soft and strong in a marvelously subtle way. As she reached out to touch the silk a shout erupted from the far end of the hamlet. Someone sounded the alarm bell.

"Atlanteans approaching! Atlanteans!" shouted a man carrying a spear while running into the market. Famen ordered everyone to their homes or into any shelter that they could get to. He appeared consider pushing Sul to the meeting hall but stop short, "Mistress, please you must leave. The Atlanteans approach!" Sul was surprised by Famen's apparent concern for her safety.

"Take care of the people Famen. I will have a word with these Atlanteans."

Without waiting for an answer she walked towards where the Atlanteans were approaching. She had dealt with Atlanteans in the past. Quiet a few as a matter of fact. Looking at the approaching group she noticed a Blade Golem with dented and tarnished armor leading a Demi-magus with six Utem Guardsmen. Sul found it interesting to see how unkempt they appeared. Renegades. She drew her hood over her skull and moved to intercept the group.

The Atlanteans noticed her approach and stopped. After a few more moments she stopped as well. "Atlanteans, state you reasons for coming to this hamlet."

The Demi-magus, who appeared to have seen no more then thirty changes of the seasons, roared back, "My affairs are none of your concern, hag! But know this! I claim this hovel as my own!" Sul briefly wondered if the young Demi-magus was mad or an imbecile. Perhaps both, she concluded.

She raised her head and look towards the Demi-magus. "Perhaps I can persuade you to reconsider. It would be to your benefit to simply move along. I would rather not be forced to punish you for your pretentiousness." He finally noticed Sul's skeletal features. "Necropolis Sect filth! Attack! Destroy that abhorrent creature!"

Today held so many surprises for Sul. She could not believe the lack of rationality the Demi-magus exhibited. More over it annoyed her to be mistaken for a follower of another group of fools. However, it appalled her even more that the Utems would follow such an obvious fool. The Blade Golem followed without question as well. But it was a machine unconcerned about its existence.

The Blade Golem and the Utem Guardsmen charged. The Demi-magus let loose a blast of mystical energy, striking her. Doing absolutely nothing. This seemed to take the Demi-magus by surprise.

Sul's attention was on the Blade Golem. She channeled her energy and let loose her own blast of mystical energy. The effect was more noticeable on the Golem. Her attack severed the Golem at its waist and it fell in two. The Utems seemed somewhat disconcerted by the loss of the Blade Golem but continued to press their attack. Sul managed to rupture one of the Guardsman with another blast and then magically fling another away from her before the rest fell upon her.

Their blades glanced off her bones most of the time. A few struck true doing minimal damage. But as quickly as her bones broke they mended themselves. She felt none of it as she raked her claws across the belly of one of the Utem Guardsmen, spilling his entrails. She tore though their shields, their frail bodies and snapped their blades with equal ease. After a few moments there remained only Sul, standing in the gore of human remains, staring at the Demi-magus. "What are you going to do now, child of Atlantis? Will you run from me, attack me or perhaps beg for my mercy?"

With each word he took a step back. His eyes widened with each step. If he had been on the verge of madness before it was evident to Sul that he had just passed over the threshold. He chose to turn and flee. His screams were hardly human. Sul toyed with the thought of slaying the animal, but only for a moment. There was enough death for one day. There would be no more today, she thought.

Looking down at her robe, soaked and dripping blood, she felt a need to shed the ruined garment. Sul turned back toward the settlement and proceeded to walk. Perhaps the silk would suit my needs, she mused to herself. Perhaps, she hoped, there would be no more incidents as today. But she knew from her years of experience that there would indeed be others. There were always others.

Her skull shook in agitation and the she went to check on the people. She found herself wishing to be their protector. It was a day of surprises indeed.