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"This is no rich, pompous noble's "grand tournament".
This is no famous king's "duel of champions".
This is no shadow lord's "manipulation of whims".
This is death.
You have been selected, and you will fight.
Only one will survive."
Rules of the Games: (thanks to Arklite for making them)
NOTE: For this arena, can entrants please provide a picture of piece of artwork to depict their character and send it to Robtheguru. Thanks.
How to enter:
You are allowed to use any Lord or Hero character from any of the current army books. Storm of Chaos and the like are out. Below you will find a list of rules on how things work; however, there are a few limits on your characters.
• Each character must be named.
• They must be legal and cost no more than 250 points in total.
• No special characters.
• All Hero choices may select 100 points of magic items, rather than the usual 50.
• In addition, each one must be accompanied by a background and a description of them for the write ups.
• To enter, you send a PM to me along with:
• Name of character
• Total cost
• Goblin Warbosses (Night Goblins included) may go up to 20 points over their magic item limit providing that they do not exceed 250 pts in total.
• Skink Chieftans may go up to 20 points over their magic item limit providing that they do not exceed 250 pts in total.
• Skaven Warlords may go up to 20 points over their magic item limit providing that they do not exceed 250 pts in total. The Appendix Plague Lord is no longer permitted.
• Vampires get 35pts extra – they may not exceed their magic item limit.
• Tomb Kings get 25 points extra, they may not exceed their magic item limit.
• Empire characters that do not take a Runefang may go up to 20pts over the magic item limit providing that they do not exceed 250 points in total.
• Wood Elf characters get 20 points extra; they may not exceed their magic item limit.
• Dark Elf Assassins are counted as Hero choices for all intents and purposes.
• Bretonnians must pray to gain the Blessing, allowing their opponent to charge them and gain all the benefits thereof in the first round of each combat. A Bretonnian player who does not wish to pray should specify this before the match is rolled.
Warpstone amulet - Same points cost, but roll to see if you die BEFORE the fight instead of afterwards.
Killing Blow - If a character scores a KB hit then this is how damaged will be worked out: D2+n
(n stands for the number of original wounds the character had minus two. This gives a 50% chance of killing a character off.)
Dwarfs – Any dwarf lord entered may be mounted upon shieldbearers, all rules and restrictions apply as per usual.
Gaze of the gods table: chaos characters will receive a single roll at the start of the tournament to represent the champion having the favour of his gods to take part. However unlike in a normal game further rolls will not be made after any victorious matches. However, should the player wish to change his result on the gaze of the gods table at any point of the arena he has a single re-roll which he can make before a match is fought to represent the fickle nature of chaos. Note that the player will be stuck with the second result regardless of the outcome. (Example: Daniel the chaos champion rolls +1 attack at the start of the arena, but later decides he wants something else in round 2. unfortunately he rolls stupidity and is stuck with it for the remainder of the arena in place of his +1 attack)
The following items are banned, they are found to be too powerful or have an unfair advantage in an Arena of Death game.
- Tress of Isolde
- Sword of Fate
- Van Horstmann's Speculum
- The Daemon Sword
- The Fellblade
- The Bane Head
- The Grudge Rune
- Kurbog's Curmudgeonly Klobbera
- Virtue of Confidence
- Annoyance of Netlings
- Palanquin mount
- Pendant of Kaeleth
- Any and all items/weapons/armour that nullifies or breaks magic weapons or armour.
Also, any item that includes in its rules "nominate one enemy character" is illegal.
How it works
If you have never fought in one of these, the point is to pit two characters against one another, one on one. In all essence it is a challenge as in a normal game but with a few differences. Namely, they’re trapped in an arena with the only way out is to kill or be killed.
We will roll a match up between two characters until one perishes. The one who remains standing will be the victor and progress to the next round.
- Always Strike First
- First round of combat
In the first round of combat, both warriors count as charging for the purposes of lances and other special rules. If neither warrior has a 'strike first' ability (or a 'strike last' ability), the person with the highest Initiative will strike first. If both warriors are equally entitled to strike first (usually because they have equal initiative), striking order will be determined randomly. In essence, we will follow the rules as outlined by GW for ASF, great weapons, and the like.
- Later rounds
In later rounds of combat, neither warrior gets charging bonuses (pretty obvious ). Strike order will be determined using the same system as in the first round of combat - however, in cases of equal initiative, the die to determine strike order is not rolled. Instead, the person who struck first last time will strike first, combat alternating between each warrior.
- After the Fight
After the fight, the victor advances to the next round. Any wounds they suffer are healed, as well as any other effects (such as the manbane poison: or anything else that permanently reduces statistics). It is as if the last fight never happened!
- Break tests
Break tests are ignored in the Arena (where are they going to run in a ring of death?). Other psychology that may force an opponent to flee from combat is also ignored. THERE IS NO WAY TO FLEE IN AN AOD. For this reason, panic, unbreakable and Stubborn also have no effect.
In addition, undead warriors ignore the rule that causes them to take wounds from combat resolution. In a similar manner, daemonic characters do not suffer from instability.
Fear is handled similarly to normal. In the first round of combat, a warrior facing a fearsome foe will take a Ld test. If he fails, he will hit on 6+ for that round of combat. After that, fear has no effect.
Hatred is also handled as normal. The warrior will re-roll failed 'to hit' rolls against hated foes in the first round, unless a specific army book overrules this.
Since stupidity is ignored in combat, it only effects the first turn when the model suffering stupidity is attempting to charge. He or she will take a stupidity test as normal; if failed, the model strikes last, no matter what. I.e., no ASF for failed test.
While there's nowhere to run, you can still have the frenzy knocked out of you; therefore, models do lose frenzy as normal.
Special Rules For Splendour and Skull
*Monstrous mounts ARE allowed, contrary to normal arena of death rules, but only ones worth up to 75 points. Charriots are not allowed
*If the rider is killed the mount also counts as dying
*Magicians ARE allowed, and due to the dark powers coursing through the arena, recieve +1 to all casting attempts
*Defender gets 1 dispel dice for each casting dice used
*Defender gets 1 dispel dice to use against bound spells
Name: Leolin Cŵn Annwn
Race Fluff: Albion Tribesman
Race Rules: Savage Orc Shaman
Total Cost: 216
Name: Addler the Destroyer
Race Fluff: Human turned Gorebull
Race Rules: Gorebull
Total Cost: 250
Name:Valdemir the Pale
Race Fluff: Vampire
Race Rules: Vampire Lord
Total Cost: 270
Name: Bill The Brave Of Nordland (and Ben his loyal parrot)
Race Fluff:Nordland Pirate
Race Rules:General of the Empire
Atilla the Hun junior
Name:Fuerza, Lord of the Skies
Race Fluff: High elf on flying contraption
Race Rules: High elf prince
Total cost: 240
Name: Tluclan the Impassive
Race fluff: daemon slaying oldblood
Race rules: saurus oldblood
Total cost: 250
Name:Grymach - Follower of the Highland Way
Race fluff: huge highlander warrior
Race rules: Ogre bruiser
Total cost: 237
Race fluff: slave turned warlord
Race rules: warlord
Total cost: 248
Name:Boq' Oph' Kro' Xocibiki , Warden of the ruined temple city of Gwatol
Race fluff: chosen of the Gwakamol Crater
Race rules: saurus oldblood
Total cost: 243
The bearded one
Name:King Ferrun Ironhand
Race fluff: Dwarf king
Race rules:Dwarf lord
Total cost: 250
Name: Lord Sir Paxrix Von Leevk, "Supreme Marketeer, and Pioneer-of-the-Surface"
Race fluff: Skaven warlord
Race rules: Skaven warlord
Total cost: 248
Name: Scrat the Deceitful
Race fluff: Assassin
Race rules: Skaven assassin
Total cost: 216
Avatar of khaine
Race fluff: Wizard cursed by demon
Race rules: Arch lector
Total cost: 254
Name: Varka the Betrayer
Race fluff: Guardian of the Shard of Tzeentch
Race rules: Exalted hero
Points cost: 245
Name: Krang the Bloodied
Race fluff: Khorne tribe leader
Race rules: Exalted hero
Points cost: 250
Alx the Exalted
Name: Warlord Snik Snik of the Mighty Squigga Lads
Race fluff: Night goblin warboss
Race rules: Night goblin warboss
Points cost: 228
-Atilla the hun junior
Krang the Bloodied VS Gebhard Jaeger
A metallic clang filled the bruised and blooded ears of Gebhard Jaeger, as two sets of rough leather clad hands flung him into the darkness. He stood, panting, trying to regain his thoughts and dignity. He turned, his mount, whimpering, as another crash filled the air. Where was he? A flare, as the runes that branded his body glowed with strange un-worldly power. He reached to his side, reassured by the cold touch of his ancient war hammer. He mounted his horse, cold breath curling out in front of him like that of an ancient dragon. Another clang. Whatever it was, it was coming.
Krang snarled, bestial eyes adjusting to his dark surroundings. Through his thick rimmed helm, he could make out a faint glow, towards the other end of the warehouse. The smiled, letting out a bestial roar. Let the game begin.
Jaegar turned in his saddle, as the monstrosity hurtled towards him, smashing crates to matchsticks. Desperately, he tried in vain to call on the aid of Sigmar, but the foul daemon crushed his attempts. He readied himself, as the howling berserker came crashing into him. The exalted swung out; landing two heavy blows on the warrior-mage, but the aura of Sigmar surrounding his plain iron armour prevented any damage. The foul juggernaut thrashed, a heavy horn ploughing into the side of Jaegar’s armour, but yet again failing to pierce it.
A cry as Jaeger desperately swung out, landing a piercing blow into the broad, tainted armour of the chosen of Khorne. A cry of contempt assured the magician that his blow had been true. As his demoralised enemy turned for a second charge, a surge of magic flowed through Gebhard’s veins, crying out as he sent valiant flames pouring over the exalted. A cackle. “You’ll have to try harder next time”.
With a roar, the beast and rider connected with Jaeger, eager to regain the esteem of the Gods, the exalted swung out, a blow so powerful that no magical armour could save. The mage fell back in his saddle, as the next onslaught from the juggernaut came, driving its horn through his exposed leg.
With a cry, Jeagar turned, the very spirit of the man-God himself consuming him. His hammer, glowing with power, descended on his ancient foe in a swift and deadly ark. Flames illuminated the dank warehouse, as the exalted slid from his saddle, skull no more than a bloodied pulp. The warrior-mage collapsed into his saddle, feeling his body go limp as he was dragged from the arena by the hooded figures. Victorious.
Menmen Mouldbold VS Grymach
Grymach awoke, swaying a cool sea breeze drifting over his subdued form. He stood, heavy brow glaring as it studied his surroundings, hefting his battle worn greatsword onto his shoulders. He steeped forward, swaying like a drunkard as freezing water pelted his bear like frame. The rotten boards creaked underneath his steel capped doeskin boots as he approached the mast of the diminutive fishing ship, sail hurled wildly like a rabid boar by the prevailing arctic wind. He glared, squinting through the intense rain. A hulking figure, towering even above the Highland warrior approached, supporting the weight of both itself and its rancid master on four tree-like limbs. A disturbed smile crossed Grymach’s battle scarred face, roaring a challenge as he charged towards the foe.
Menmen let out a squeal, as the bear of a man collided with him and his rat-ogre mount, swinging his ancient weapon in a deadly arc, bringing it down twice onto the diseased frame of his mount. Blood and pus spurted from the deep wounds, as Mouldbold snarled, his heavy blows striking from the muscled frame of the man. With a high pitched cackle, the warlord began his onslaught on the towering highlander. “No-one – hurts – my – rat ogre!” a stabbing blow punctuating each word, as the blows merely bounced off the sodden kilt of Grymach. “I paid good money for him!” cried Menmen, ducking under the arcing blows of the enraged man-thing.
The highlander let out a brutal roar, pounding his ham-like fists into the exposed snout of the clan moulder beast. With one earthshaking blow, the rat ogre was sent soaring into the mast, cracking both wood and beast clean in two. With a snarl, the warlord launched himself at the panting highlander, frenzy fuelling his frantic blows, desperate to avenge his partner. He slashed out, piercing the heavy frame of the man.
Grymach looked down at his muscled arm. A steady stream of blood trickled from it, but it was no more than a flesh wound. He lifted his glaive once more, ready to destroy the foul rat spawn. Suddenly, a bout of sickness overcame him, he collapsed to his knees, foul ichor spewing from his open mouth and wound. He had been poisoned. He got to his feet, a thunderous roar undulating across the deck. He swung, connecting cleanly with the frail body of the skaven and sending him flying across the broken deck of the ship. He paused, as another fit of sickness wracked him bearlike frame.
Menmen reached with his bloody and broken hand into a pocket in his glowing armour. Hysterical laughter shattered the silent night as he massaged the foul smelling substance into his scarred and broken limbs, cackling as the re-grew at a startling and unnatural rate. He got to his feet, a trickle of liquid running down his furred leg as he readied himself for the final charge.
Menmen looked around, he was cornered. With a cry he ran at the highlander, tearing desperately at his muscled frame. A ham like fist thudded into his chest, throwing him to the ground. A smile passed his rat-like features, as Grymach fell, roaring ferociously to the ground, red blood and black ichor running from a fresh wound in his throat. The last thing Menmen saw before the darkness took over were the hooded attendants dragged him from the limb strewn boat.
Boq' Oph' Kro' Xocibiki VS Valdemir the Pale
Valdemir smiled, a drop of ruby-red blood trickling from the corner of his mouth like a fine wine. His pale features replenished, he turned, stepping over the lifeless bodies of the attendants who had thrown him so impolitely into the courtyards. The vulgar cattle deserved it. He clicked his fingers, motioning for his unholy steed as he sheathed his rapier. He looked around, acute, bestial senses picking up a muscle bound creature towards the other side of the regal courtyard. He examined closer. A lizardman. Clearly a worthy opponent. It had been centuries since he had tasted cold blood, but not too long now he smirked.
Valdemir howled, as he circled above the unwary foe, pure white hair blowing wildly in the air. He reached out, collecting the trails of dark energy that lingered about the deserted seen, channelling them into a magical blast. He snarled, as his attempts were quashed by the coldblood countless feet below. Without motioning, he reached into the simple mind of his steed, ordering the charge.
Boq' Oph' Kro' Xocibiki turned at the last minute, as the unholy figure hurtled towards him, he roared in defiance, smashing aside the adept and well aimed blows of his enemy. One blow struck the scaly, age hardened hide of the oldblood, causing the frenzied reptile to bellow in pain, but causing no major damage. He turned, his cold blooded mount’s snapping jaws just missing the jugular of the tainted one. He swung, flaming enchanted blade piercing the pale blemished flesh of the vampire, causing tainted black blood to spurt forth.
The injured undead fell from his mount, clutching the wound in his chest. He had come looking for a capable opponent, and he had found one. He made no sound or attempt to fight back as the enraged oldblood reached down, plucking the vampires pale skull clean from his flawed and gaunt shoulders. “FOR SOTEK” bellowed the lizardman, in the ancient language of the Old Ones. Then the darkness took over.
Addler the Destroyer VS Varka the Betrayer
Hooded, black-clad figures shrank back from the hulking, snarling armoured giant before them, unsure if their duty was worth the agony of death that wicked, barbed sword promised. Beneath his helm, Varka sneered. These pathetic underlings knew their life was forfeit if they dared lay a hand on his resplendent armour. Fearful of approaching such a mighty warrior, they settled instead for opening the heavy iron portcullis that faced the empty flagstones of the arena. Varka stepped forward eagerly, leaving a scream and a trail of blood in his wake as he casually flicked his blade at one of the attendants. His sword writhed in his grasp, eager for further bloodshed. Varka was keen to appease its insatiable appetite.
Across the dark stones another gate was opening. Varka paced impatiently, waiting to meet his opponent, waiting to see who would be next to die by his blade. Muffled sounds of a struggle emanated from the dingy passageway before a young girl was propelled violently into the arena, to fall heavily to the stones.
As she painfully picked herself from the harsh floor, brushing dust from her face and clothes, Varka found himself laughing, “This?” he sneered derisively, “This is all you can bring against me?” His harsh laugh reverberated off the solid walls the girl was cowering against and cautiously circling around. She froze in place when Varka finally brought his sword to bear, aiming the point directly at her chest.
“Oh, but this will still be marvellous. I will enjoy your death, child. Your suffering shall be exquisite.”
The young girl shook her head, “You are mistaken, sir. You shall not be fighting me.”
Varka froze in place, momentarily uncertain. It was only then that he felt the tremors of a charge. He flicked his gaze around, having only enough time to glimpse a massive blur of rusty spikes and mismatched hides before a tremendous impact propelled him from his feet in a blaze of agony.
The cold flagstones welcomed him into their unyielding embrace, and Varka saw spots dancing within his vision. He willed his body to move, but found his strength had all but deserted him.
Distantly he heard a child's voice, calm but sad, “Addler? You alright?”
A pause, and then indistinct words drifted to his ringing ears. Varka saw a massive axe appear in his sight, hovering over him for a moment. It was his end, he knew.
Sparks danced off the stones as the massive cleaver fell, the hulking giant finishing his bout. Seemingly unaffected by the growing pool of blood around the fallen warrior, Alina stepped forward and took Addler's hand, leading him back towards the cells.
Warlord Snik Snik of the Mighty Squigga Lads VS Bill The Brave Of Nordland
The squeal of rusted metal and the rattle of ancient chains heralded the arrival of contrasting combatants to the arena floor. With a tremendous bray and a flare of magnificent wings a pirate daubed in silks and leather emerged astride a pegasus, a gleaming mace held aloft in challenge to his opponent and a raucous parrot screeching from its roost on his shoulder. Across the arena there appeared a mumbling, muttering goblin, a dyed hempen robe concealing his unpleasant features. Unfortunately the snarling, drooling cave squig serving as a mount had nothing to hide its grotesque form as a rope-like tongue dragged across thick, warty lips at the sight of the foe.
It was Bill the Brave that first rose to the challenge, crying a charge and sending his pegasus barrelling across the flagstones as the parrot took flight above him. Warlord Snik Snik muttered in reply and spanked the hide of his beast with the flat of a rusty blade, sending the squig lurching forward to join the fight.
Moments before the two combatants collided a flare of light erupted from a spiked collar jutting from beneath the goblin's hood. The sudden light startled the charging pegasus which reared to a halt, only to have the considerable bulk of a squig at full pace bowl it over. The thud of impact reverberated around the enclosed arena, and both Bill and Snik Snik tumbled from their mounts.
The goblin was the first to regain his feet, but seemed reluctant to approach Bill and contented itself with hurling small stones and a tirade of abuse at his opponent. The squig was far from apprehensive, though, and no sooner had Bill climbed to his feet then the squig was upon him, all fangs and mouth and foetid breath. For its trouble it was swatted aside by Bill's mace, chased away from doing any further harm to the pirate by the sharp beak and piercing squawks of his parrot.
Lumbering and snarling, the squig sidled back to Warlord Snik Snik, who hopped nimbly back upon his trusty mount. Bill had edged back to his pegasus but the beast was still unsettled and refused to let him near enough to climb back in to the saddle. He braced to face the oncoming squig with only his trusty parrot hovering at his shoulder.
The slavering squig was seemingly wary of that bird this time around. It sidled cautiously closer, darting in and back several times, allowing Bill to exchange indecisive blows with the goblin Warlord. It wasn't until a blow landed on the squig that the bout turned against him. The beast grunted and retreated, but its goblin rider screeching unintelligible nonsense at it seemed to rile the beast enough to shake off the blow. With a surge of its powerful legs the gaping maw of the sqig sought Bill once more, and the pirate's desperate sweep with his mace was far from enough to discourage the hungry creature.
As the squig feasted upon the unfortunate Bill, Warlord Snik Snik descended from his saddle, poking through the tattered scraps of the pirate's clothes and armour, muttering as he examined anything the squig didn't scoff down. It was only when the hooded arena attendants began to drift forward the Snik Snik prodded the gluttonous squig and convinced it to trundle from the arena to his waiting cell with his newly claimed trinkets safely bundled in his robe for later examination. Snik Snik cackled at the though as he rode into the darkness of the tunnel, a cackle that lingered even after he had fled from sight.
Scrat the Deceitful VS Fuerza, Lord of the Skies
Leolin Cŵn Annwn VS Lord Sir Paxrix Von Leevk
Tluclan the Impassive VS King Ferrun Ironhand
I'm trying to reply to your PM but your inbox is full lol
My Arena Champions: Kharn'eth The Bloodcleaver and Gorzag Iron Jaw
Your quota is 50 total, sent and received combined. So chances are you have 25 sent message making you reach the quota.
My Arena Champions: Kharn'eth The Bloodcleaver and Gorzag Iron Jaw
Count me in as an entrant. I'm still on my mission to enter one character from every race into an arena (that is completed). Probably going to go for the new Beastman book, see if I can't come up with a winner there.
I am heading off to the Peace Corps. It is bery likely I will not be back. Good luck to all of you endeavors.
When's this arena likely to kick off? Or not a clue yet? I'd like to enter if there's enough room after my final exam has taken place (the 15th of this month).
I don't want to start devising fluff/equipment combo's for my character yet to enter now though, I can promise I WILL get sidetracked from my revision if I do so!
Give it til the 15th then if there's room I'm in