Chương 60: The Last Stand of the Heartbroken Brigade

The Moon Gate was torn in half by the avalanche. Two wizards stood on the jagged vista and observed the bedlam below. The Heartbroken Brigade fought bravely, as always, but the Bla'claw outnumbered them impossibly. These were only the dregs that were left! The great bulk of the Bla'Claw Horde lay drowned at the bottom of the poisoned river. The survivors were all sick and dying. Red Death rotted their insides. Still, the Horde came forward, driven by Blakabaa Ba'ah's implacable will.

The Goblins battered against the barricades, bloody before the battle even began. The Shieldbearers shuddered against a wave of stained Goblins and hammered them back. Hilg was at the fore, churning grief into molten rage. Sufferen fought beside him, green blood flew from his hammer like a fountain. Each swing shattered a Goblin, but it was never enough. No matter how many he slayed, there were more to take their place. Behind them, the Hawkmoon picked their shots, careful to make every arrow count.

The Halberdiers were everywhere, rushing into each breach to drive the Greenskins back. Potboy's veterans were spread throughout, ready to skewer any recruit who lost his nerve. There could be no retreat. It was do or die. They were not alone. Once more, the Windsworn fought side-by-side with their former foes. There were no borders anymore, no allegiance greater than man against monster, life against death. On those great stone steps, the Windsworn warriors spent themselves without hope of victory.

They threw themselves into the fray savagely, hoping only that some skald might sing of their deaths. Above them all, the Wizards readied their gambit.

"Are you certain, old friend?" the Rune King asked. Lines of green-white fire traced from his fingers, wound together, and wove into a pattern of ever-descending complexity.

"He is," Bobbert said.

"The sacrifice they made must be repaid."

"And what of you, boy?"

"I have decided," Bobbert agreed. How strange to be so afraid, but so free!

"It's the only way."

"Then may the sacred geometries carry you to your goal. I will see you soon, enough." No, you won't, rued Bobbert and Abaxios. They were of one mind, one soul, one purpose. The runes wound down in an endless spiral that stretched into a tunnel of green flame. The Reconciler stepped into the blinding light. * Every member of the Lords of Misfortune was packed around the spectacular landscape. They'd all pitched in to build a flooded battlefield for the final battle of the campaign.

After the death of the Red Lament and the cataclysmic shattering of the Sky Iris, the Viridian River ran red as an artery. The Valley of Six Mists was a slaughterhouse of ruddy muck and bloody bogs. On Sandy's side of the table, stark bands of red epoxy stain showed where the high-water mark lapped at the base of the Dwarven fortifications. Duncan had cleaned out his entire inventory of model foliage to blanket the battlefield with uprooted trees and debris.

Chuck built tangled stockade walls between the unfinished sections of the fortress. This was the Heartbroken Brigade's last-ditch defense against the corrupted Bla'Claw Horde. Vlad had warned the whole club he intended to play for real. If Sandy wanted a win to honor Robin, he would have to earn it. Everyone agreed, it's what he would have wanted. Vlad had spent days reconfiguring his army and devised the most brutal list possible. A new pact with Chaos Manifest was the key to his strategy.

Duke Vlad had replaced all the units that were hit by the balance changes with a regiment of Traitor Knights, led by Duke Yomone. He repainted his own command section to reflect the pact with the Black Princes. The Goblin armor was blackened now, lined with crimson trim. A hole was burned through the Bad Moon Standard, an emptiness to reflect the hollow countenance of the Void herself. Vlad lavished points on Blakaba Ba'ah, granting the Tainted Maja both the Mark of the Black-Handed One and the Accursed Mail.

He modeled the sharp, ebon scales of the cursed armor so they tore through the Maja's robes and fused into his green skin. A set of curling horns were grafted onto his brow, and the mutations were outlined with hair-thin rainbows. Vlad had crushed mica into his paint to create pearlescent violet and ultramarine. Even Sandy couldn't hide his admiration. As they set up their armies, the backline was clearly at the front of Vlad's strategy. Goblin morale was miserable now. A lost general meant almost certain defeat.

If Hymioner could open a Rune Gate into the command section and send in Yureg the Whirlwind, Blakabaa Ba'ah would be in terrible trouble. To stop this, Vlad surrounded Blakabaa with Mad Shaman to ward off Shriek Shots from the Hawkmoon and Elite Crushanug Thugs to handle Yureg and his Dervishes. Without Burbak Breakbow or Cinnabinathi, Sandy would need a minor miracle to break through Blakabaa's Accursed Mail.

So long as the Maja kept the Horde's fervor high, the Goblin tide would eventually grind the defenders to dust. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. For the first two turns, fortune favored Chaos. Sandy played cautiously and shrank back in a battle of attrition he couldn't possibly win. Blakabaa dispelled each Rune Gate and the Goblins laid waste to the badly outnumbered Imperial Halberdiers. The invaders soon fought their way right up to the makeshift barricades.

Vlad sent in Yomone's Traitor Knights armed with Holocaust Vials. Soon, half of the fortifications were ablaze. The defenders fought on, unshaken. Turn three was a catastrophe for Sandy. Yomone broke through into melee combat with Brendan the Emissary and slew him with a triple crit. Potboy's Halberdiers were Shaken, just one wound away from breaking. Victory was inches away. The War Room groaned and shouted advice. Sandy was getting clobbered.

At the end of his turn, Vlad called a time-out and double-checked everything. Next turn, Sandy would almost certainly have enough magic cards left to force a Rune Gate through. No use trying to dispel it now. If Yureg rolled something crazy and managed to kill Blakabaa, he would get an avalanche of victory points. If the goblins failed their morale roll after, everything could still fall apart. Carefully, Vlad set his Shamans into Entranced Chant to buff their missile defense.

He put Blakabaa's bodyguards into Retaliate so they could attack right away if Yureg teleported in. For his last action, Vlad had Blakabaa try to cast Mindwipe against Abaxios Oslune. Even though Abaxios had a much higher sorcery stat, there was a slim chance Blakabaa could succeed and drain some magic cards. As expected, it failed badly. Sandy got a free magic action in response. His face lit up.

"Hey Vlad, watch this!" He laid down Abaxios Oslune's ultimate card. Ultimum Perfugium Stultorum! Vlad squinted at the unexpected move and confusion swept through the War Room. Now, every attack roll within 24 inches of Abaxios would be a critical failure, including the attacks of his own troops. It would stop the Goblin advance until the effect ended, but it could not save the Heartbroken Brigade. Vlad could simply hold ground and rain down arrows on the defenders until the effect expired.

"Great move, Amsler," Vlad snorted.

"Your turn." Sandy laid down a straight of three mana cards. His spell could not be countered.

"I cast Rune Gate on Abaxios Oslune," Sandy announced. Vlad blinked in surprise. Murmurs raced around the room as everyone tried to figure out what was happening. Sandy set the Reconciler right in front of Blakabaa so the tiny figure was staring right up into the Warlord's ugly face.

"Oh no," Vlad groaned as he realized.

"HA!" Duncan caught on. The presence of an enemy triggered Retaliate! The bodyguards were forced to attack, which critically failed, causing them to strike the nearest ally. They hacked themselves apart and one even wounded Blakabaa in the confusion. But the worst was yet to come.

"Abaxios activates The Black Scroll."

"No!" Vlad breathed. He stood up from his chair suddenly.

"My Shamans cast dispel—wait. I can't." The Shamans were stuck in Entranced Chant. Blakabaa couldn't attack Oslune. The Black Scroll itself counted as an attack, so it critically failed with an automatic 01 on the disaster chart. Duncan had the rule binder open already. He read aloud for the room.

"01 - RENT IN REALITY - DESTROY ALL UNITS AND STRUCTURES WITHIN 2D10 INCHES. NO SAVES POSSIBLE. NOTHING CAN PREVENT THIS EFFECT," Duncan boomed. Laughter broke out and built into a howl when Sandy rolled a pair of nines. The singularity was enormous. Vlad's entire command and all of his archers were sucked into the rift in the fabric of the real. Abaxios Oslune and Blakabaa Ba'ah were drawn together into a profound nothing without beginning or end. Duncan removed the models to the next table.

Vlad looked down at the empty space in shock.

"That is the biggest cheese I have ever seen," Vlad said.

"I concede." The War Room roared so loud their ears hurt. Everyone was shouting at once.

"Wait! Wait!" Sandy cried out.

"You gotta see this!" Sandy held up Diario de Martillo. Everyone hushed up to look. Sandy flipped to the final page and handed it to Vlad. THE LAST STAND OF THE HEARTBROKEN BRIGADE. Vlad's eyes raced across the page.

"Look at this. He predicted I would bring in a Chaos detachment. He picked out my whole army." He held up the diario. Robin had predicted Vlad's army list, down to the last model. He'd guessed both of the boons on Blakabaa Ba'ah. Underneath, he had planned out the battle in tiny, forking lines of notation that instructed Sandy how to react to each maneuver. Everything Sandy did was a delaying action, buying time to build up enough magic cards to set off the surprise nuke.

At the bottom of the page, it said: Dear Vlad, GOTCHA. Sincerely, Robin Martillo.

"Ese pinche pendejito (that little devil)." Vlad shook his head. The War Room shook with laughter. When it faded away, a hard silence took its place. Vlad drew a deep breath through his nose. His eyes were wet.

"I'm gonna miss that kid." THE END.