One Combat, One Tree Lord, One Emotional Breakdown
One Combat, One Tree Lord, One Emotional Breakdown
Sometimes a battle report is a careful, turn-by-turn tactical breakdown.
And sometimes it is built entirely around one traumatic moment, one miracle shot, and a lot of disbelief at the table.
This was definitely the second kind.
The moment we will remember
The highlight of the game was brutal and very, very fast: Andrzej took down a Treelord with 14 HP and a 3+ save in a single combat phase.
From Michał’s side of the table, it felt less like a highlight and more like a personal tragedy. As he put it afterwards, he thought he was going to cry.
Honestly, fair.
A Treelord that tough is exactly the kind of model that is supposed to stick around, soak punishment, and force your opponent to commit real resources. Watching it disappear in one go is the sort of thing that makes you stare at the dice for a few seconds and reconsider your life choices.
The miracle of the Frigate cannon
On the other side of the “we cannot believe this actually happened” spectrum, there was also a rare and beautiful event: the Frigate’s cannon actually killed something.
According to Andrzej, this may have been the first and probably the last time in his life that the gun on the Frigate managed to accomplish anything meaningful.
That alone would have earned a place in the post.
What makes it even better is that it happened almost by accident. For four rounds, the plan had been to deal with the Kurnoth Hunters. But every time they were close to going down, they healed back up and returned, dragging the whole effort into that familiar Age of Sigmar loop of:
- finally doing enough damage,
- seeing a glimmer of hope,
- and then watching the enemy recover like nothing happened.
So when the Frigate cannon finally connected with something important, it felt less like a calculated play and more like the universe apologising for the previous four rounds.
Why we love games like this
This is exactly why battle reports from our group rarely start with perfect strategy and end with clean conclusions. What we actually remember are the absurd swings:
- the “there is no way this dies here” unit getting deleted,
- the weapon that never works suddenly becoming the hero,
- and the slow despair of trying to remove a unit that simply refuses to stay dead.
This game seems to have had all three.
Final thoughts
We do not have a full turn-by-turn reconstruction here, but honestly, we do not need one. The story tells itself:
- Andrzej spiked hard enough in combat to erase a fully healthy Treelord,
- Michał experienced hobby pain in its purest form,
- and the Frigate cannon achieved its once-in-a-lifetime glorious success after several rounds of frustration with endlessly healing Kurnoths.
That is Age of Sigmar in a nutshell: drama, nonsense, improbable heroics, and at least one moment where someone at the table loses faith in reality.
And really, that is why we keep playing.