Conundrum:
BRB FAQ:(units in reserves vs abilities)
Q: If a unit is in reserve, and it has an ability that occurs at
the start of a turn can they use that ability on the turn they
arrive? (p94)
A: No. Unless specifically stated otherwise.
GK Psychic Communion(reserve manipulation)
...This power is used at the beginning of the Grey Knights Movement Phase. If the psychic test is successful, you can modify any reserve rolls made this phase by by +1 or -1...
Okay, now this (kind of) smacks of lawyering, and may be answered somewhere I am not seeing, BUT...I am finding nothing in the rules that would prevent a GK IC with this power from manipulating his(or other units) reserve rolls while he is in reserve.
Beat me up if I am missing something obvious, or has already been discussed to death, but am I wrong?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
Bone Blending on the Possessed
Just a little more progress.
I'm going to wash the boltgun, then set them aside for more troop unit building.
This project is very fun for me, and gives me a brief break from the DeathWing/Grey Knights I've been working on.
Still haven't decided what color to make the flames coming from the claw-backpack guy's arm, but probably going to go green.
I'm going to wash the boltgun, then set them aside for more troop unit building.
This project is very fun for me, and gives me a brief break from the DeathWing/Grey Knights I've been working on.
Still haven't decided what color to make the flames coming from the claw-backpack guy's arm, but probably going to go green.
Gal Vorbak
The Gal Vorbak...
They begin. A few mistakes with base colour, otherwise the progress is definitely in the direction I want.
As this is a heresy-era army, the rest of the Word Bearers will be done in grey...so variation within the theme is acceptable.
They begin. A few mistakes with base colour, otherwise the progress is definitely in the direction I want.
As this is a heresy-era army, the rest of the Word Bearers will be done in grey...so variation within the theme is acceptable.
Cats and Baby Training...
So, I think the 'delightful' feline has decided to give me her version of training-for-baby. She doesn't think in terms of my already rampant insomnia, she's just trying to do her part.
11pm, I slide off into slumber. Not fitfully, but a little tossing and turning. My norm for sleep. The wife, bless her pregnant little soul, twitches into sleep...further arresting my normal nocturnal rhythm.
1:30am; the cat decides she wishes to aid the east in its time of crisis. How, may you ask? Well she doesn't know either, though she does know she wants to get there...by digging her way through her litter box. Little comprehension of distance, she just 'knows' Japan is on the other side of the world, and that the world is under her litter box. She digs...and digs...and digs...sounding all the world like an earth mover breaking up concrete. Survival instinct kicks in (something I usually think she lacks), and she stops right around the time I achieve full consciousness and begin to contemplate her demise.
2:30am; Crinkle Balls (scientific name, I'm sure). Those foil balls that make noises a cat finds irresistible. Those toys that she loses, with great regularity, beneath the stove. Those toys she has lost all of in the last few days, and whined at us to find for her. We've learned to NOT find any for her near bed time. Apparently she has decided the entertainment of my crackling joints (and grunts of ire) were worth missing out on (sounds she enjoys thoroughly as I root around under said stove for her every morn) in the interest of my training. She has performed a feat worthy of great spite, and acquired one from the dusty depths of our kitchen cave, on her own. She seemed to have quietly, and with great malice-aforethought, carried it gently up the stairs...quietly deposited it upon the door jam and POUNCED...and POUNCED...and POUNCED. A sound, not unlike the crashing of glass to a sleep addled mind, exploded from the doorway. Adrenaline rush had me out of bed before I knew what'd hit me. She rocketed down the stairs and I, well I stumbled to the offending toy and hid it...hopefully I never remember where.
3(ish)am; Galloping. I don't know where this animal has acquired her desire to evince a sudden lack of lazy, but she HAS learned how to gallop. The downstairs sound like a Lipizzaner show.
4(ish)am; Suddenly feeling guilt at the slow growth of her waistline (winter weight you know), the cat decides to implement her excercise program. It's a stair routine. To my muddled mind, it sounds as though the Lipizzaners have moved to the stairwell... and as we all know, a cardio workout needs at LEAST 15 minutes to have an impact.
5(ish)am; My bladder summons me (though why now, and not at any of the myriad previous interruptions I don't know) and I answer its call. At the foot of the bed, the cat decides it is 'daddy play-time', and sets up in ambush. Great feet stride around the corner of the bed, as the cat's Goliath trudges near. I can envision, under the bed (now that I am up) the tail-twitch, the anticipation, the patience of the great hunter as her prey approaches...yet at 5am, all my mind is saying is 'bed...must get back to bed...sleep...must regain sleep'. I round the bottom of the bed, make my turn in preparation to crash back into a blissfull null-state, when sudden SHARPS penetrate the top of my foot...my calf...and my adrenal glands pump a quart of 'WAKE UP' into my bloodstream.
Again, the survival instinct (that I never knew existed) kicked in on the filthy feline, and she took off at Mach-5 for the downstairs. I am neither amused, nor awake enough to pursue.
6:30(ish)am; It is my day off. I have not set a single alarm. In an optimistic mindset (something that has been disabused at this juncture) the night prior, I looked forward to sleeping in until 7-8ish. I reveled in the thought.
CRASH...THUMP...CLAW...'mrowp'...the cat has leaped to the top of the dresser at the foot of MY side of the bed, and decided to claw her way through curtain, and glass, to get at the birds on the other side of the bedroom window. At this point, my body decides to override my mind's attempt to stay asleep. Adrenaline flows, once again, and I am up...hissing...and chasing feline before my brain can tell the rest of me to just 'shut up and go back to sleep'. The cat has managed, before my feet even touch the floor, to cover the length of the bedroom (without touching the floor) in the time it takes me to blink. I fall back into the tortuous teasing device called 'bed'.
6:35am; Dammit...I'm awake.
I stumble downstairs to make coffee in a desperate attempt to compensate for lack of sleep.
The cat follows me down the stairs (where the hell WAS she?). She looks up at me with desire, and follows me all the way...to the drawer...that contains her toys.
I consider killing her...
I begin to reach for her...
and then I see an empty food dish. Utterly empty. Not even dust.
I let her live.
You see, I gave her too much credit. I thought SHE was trying to train me for incoming infant insomnia...
but no,
It was her Mother, my Wife.
I stood there, contemplating going upstairs and smothering her with a pillow (as she never ONCE awoke last night, as I battled cats, rampaging Huns and horse shows)...
Sometime, in the next 18years, my wife needs to take our child out and buy it whatever it wants...to thank it for saving her life.
11pm, I slide off into slumber. Not fitfully, but a little tossing and turning. My norm for sleep. The wife, bless her pregnant little soul, twitches into sleep...further arresting my normal nocturnal rhythm.
1:30am; the cat decides she wishes to aid the east in its time of crisis. How, may you ask? Well she doesn't know either, though she does know she wants to get there...by digging her way through her litter box. Little comprehension of distance, she just 'knows' Japan is on the other side of the world, and that the world is under her litter box. She digs...and digs...and digs...sounding all the world like an earth mover breaking up concrete. Survival instinct kicks in (something I usually think she lacks), and she stops right around the time I achieve full consciousness and begin to contemplate her demise.
2:30am; Crinkle Balls (scientific name, I'm sure). Those foil balls that make noises a cat finds irresistible. Those toys that she loses, with great regularity, beneath the stove. Those toys she has lost all of in the last few days, and whined at us to find for her. We've learned to NOT find any for her near bed time. Apparently she has decided the entertainment of my crackling joints (and grunts of ire) were worth missing out on (sounds she enjoys thoroughly as I root around under said stove for her every morn) in the interest of my training. She has performed a feat worthy of great spite, and acquired one from the dusty depths of our kitchen cave, on her own. She seemed to have quietly, and with great malice-aforethought, carried it gently up the stairs...quietly deposited it upon the door jam and POUNCED...and POUNCED...and POUNCED. A sound, not unlike the crashing of glass to a sleep addled mind, exploded from the doorway. Adrenaline rush had me out of bed before I knew what'd hit me. She rocketed down the stairs and I, well I stumbled to the offending toy and hid it...hopefully I never remember where.
3(ish)am; Galloping. I don't know where this animal has acquired her desire to evince a sudden lack of lazy, but she HAS learned how to gallop. The downstairs sound like a Lipizzaner show.
4(ish)am; Suddenly feeling guilt at the slow growth of her waistline (winter weight you know), the cat decides to implement her excercise program. It's a stair routine. To my muddled mind, it sounds as though the Lipizzaners have moved to the stairwell... and as we all know, a cardio workout needs at LEAST 15 minutes to have an impact.
5(ish)am; My bladder summons me (though why now, and not at any of the myriad previous interruptions I don't know) and I answer its call. At the foot of the bed, the cat decides it is 'daddy play-time', and sets up in ambush. Great feet stride around the corner of the bed, as the cat's Goliath trudges near. I can envision, under the bed (now that I am up) the tail-twitch, the anticipation, the patience of the great hunter as her prey approaches...yet at 5am, all my mind is saying is 'bed...must get back to bed...sleep...must regain sleep'. I round the bottom of the bed, make my turn in preparation to crash back into a blissfull null-state, when sudden SHARPS penetrate the top of my foot...my calf...and my adrenal glands pump a quart of 'WAKE UP' into my bloodstream.
Again, the survival instinct (that I never knew existed) kicked in on the filthy feline, and she took off at Mach-5 for the downstairs. I am neither amused, nor awake enough to pursue.
6:30(ish)am; It is my day off. I have not set a single alarm. In an optimistic mindset (something that has been disabused at this juncture) the night prior, I looked forward to sleeping in until 7-8ish. I reveled in the thought.
CRASH...THUMP...CLAW...'mrowp'...the cat has leaped to the top of the dresser at the foot of MY side of the bed, and decided to claw her way through curtain, and glass, to get at the birds on the other side of the bedroom window. At this point, my body decides to override my mind's attempt to stay asleep. Adrenaline flows, once again, and I am up...hissing...and chasing feline before my brain can tell the rest of me to just 'shut up and go back to sleep'. The cat has managed, before my feet even touch the floor, to cover the length of the bedroom (without touching the floor) in the time it takes me to blink. I fall back into the tortuous teasing device called 'bed'.
6:35am; Dammit...I'm awake.
I stumble downstairs to make coffee in a desperate attempt to compensate for lack of sleep.
The cat follows me down the stairs (where the hell WAS she?). She looks up at me with desire, and follows me all the way...to the drawer...that contains her toys.
I consider killing her...
I begin to reach for her...
and then I see an empty food dish. Utterly empty. Not even dust.
I let her live.
You see, I gave her too much credit. I thought SHE was trying to train me for incoming infant insomnia...
but no,
It was her Mother, my Wife.
I stood there, contemplating going upstairs and smothering her with a pillow (as she never ONCE awoke last night, as I battled cats, rampaging Huns and horse shows)...
Sometime, in the next 18years, my wife needs to take our child out and buy it whatever it wants...to thank it for saving her life.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Grey Knights beginnings, with cheeze...and little GK
Okay, bear with me...as I am doing this from memory..but I think it serves closely enough for points.
Coteaz
2x Techamrines (orbital strike relay/2x servo skulls)
6x Inq Ret Sqads;
5x Psykers
2x Jakaero
Chimera
2x Rifleman Dreads (psybolts)
Should come out to JUST under 1750 (again correct me if I'm wrong) Leaving 100pts (to get to 1850-ish) and netting;
8 twin linked str 8 range 48 shots
6 S-7 Ap-2 large blasts range 36
12 S-9 Ap-2 range 48 shots (or MM, or Hvy Flm)
plus chimera fire
and 2x Orbital Bombardments...DS defense from the squad Coteaz is attached to, scout blocking, mobility and so on.
Extra 100pts can go into warriors with flamers or plasma (if you equip chimera with hvy flamers, reducing your midfield fire, you do help out the anti horde fun)
Now this is an exercise in extremis...seeing if the Codex can be abused significantly.
I would never play this in friendly games, but am thinking variations on this theme may/will be seen in tourney.
I know I'm going to try it out that way, but not sure I'm going to stick with it unless people figure out ways to manage it and make it fun to play.
Coteaz
2x Techamrines (orbital strike relay/2x servo skulls)
6x Inq Ret Sqads;
5x Psykers
2x Jakaero
Chimera
2x Rifleman Dreads (psybolts)
Should come out to JUST under 1750 (again correct me if I'm wrong) Leaving 100pts (to get to 1850-ish) and netting;
8 twin linked str 8 range 48 shots
6 S-7 Ap-2 large blasts range 36
12 S-9 Ap-2 range 48 shots (or MM, or Hvy Flm)
plus chimera fire
and 2x Orbital Bombardments...DS defense from the squad Coteaz is attached to, scout blocking, mobility and so on.
Extra 100pts can go into warriors with flamers or plasma (if you equip chimera with hvy flamers, reducing your midfield fire, you do help out the anti horde fun)
Now this is an exercise in extremis...seeing if the Codex can be abused significantly.
I would never play this in friendly games, but am thinking variations on this theme may/will be seen in tourney.
I know I'm going to try it out that way, but not sure I'm going to stick with it unless people figure out ways to manage it and make it fun to play.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Word Bearers...a start, and something more
So, after reading 'First Heretic' I have been motivated...
I haven't created an army just because I 'wanted to' in a very long time.
In fact, the last one was my pre-Heresy Istvaan III loyalists.
Everything I've done since has made concessions to competitiveness.
Three things pushed me into this, in reverse order;
The novel...it brought me back into the Horus Heresy universe, as the last two I read disappointed.
Tim Wright...watching him play, enjoy, and do well with a 'toolbox' Chaos Space Marine army at my last RTT (which will shortly have its own blog entry). He just ENJOYED himself too much for me to not re-evaluate excessive competitive builds to the exclusion of the original fun.
Ian V... 'nuff said.
So,
Argel Tal (and soon, the Gal Vorbak)
So he begins, with his 'mini-me'...
Slow progress...
Getting there...
I haven't created an army just because I 'wanted to' in a very long time.
In fact, the last one was my pre-Heresy Istvaan III loyalists.
Everything I've done since has made concessions to competitiveness.
Three things pushed me into this, in reverse order;
The novel...it brought me back into the Horus Heresy universe, as the last two I read disappointed.
Tim Wright...watching him play, enjoy, and do well with a 'toolbox' Chaos Space Marine army at my last RTT (which will shortly have its own blog entry). He just ENJOYED himself too much for me to not re-evaluate excessive competitive builds to the exclusion of the original fun.
Ian V... 'nuff said.
So,
Argel Tal (and soon, the Gal Vorbak)
So he begins, with his 'mini-me'...
Slow progress...
Getting there...
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Passing
A friend passed Friday night.
A young friend.
Is it hypocritical to feel greater grief for youth? Isn't all life sacred?
I find myself lamenting his 'goodness' most. He was just nice...not enough of those people around...yet I keep coming back to his youth. Early 20's? That's too damned young.
Smiles, even in his frustration, I come back to the smiles. It seemed like he nearly always had a smile. Job stress...School stress...other stresses...and yet I always saw the smile. Quippy posts, esoteric or anachronistic, but always there bringing ME a smile...or a retrospective thought.
The pain in his closest friends' faces, when they shared the 'news' (so vile to say it that way, like it's a story on the local stations...but it was 'news' to us in the tragic way). That killed me a little inside. Wanting to be closer to them, to be able to offer more in the way of support...and knowing I couldn't...and shame at those feelings, because it felt as though I was making it about me inside.
Helplessness...that's where it all crashes in. Can't DO anything. Just feel.
Knowing that, no matter what, I cannot even imagine the level of helplessness felt by those that were actually present when it happened.
Knowing that, no matter what, the void for his closest friends and family cannot be filled.
Knowing that nothing can be said that can wash away the pain and loss...or come out, in some fashion, a bit trite.
A youth died this weekend.
A friend passed this weekend.
A genuinely GOOD human being has left us...and we are all just a little smaller for it.
Ian,
I wish I'd been a better friend, and I hope I can be a better friend to those you were closest to.
You are missed.
A young friend.
Is it hypocritical to feel greater grief for youth? Isn't all life sacred?
I find myself lamenting his 'goodness' most. He was just nice...not enough of those people around...yet I keep coming back to his youth. Early 20's? That's too damned young.
Smiles, even in his frustration, I come back to the smiles. It seemed like he nearly always had a smile. Job stress...School stress...other stresses...and yet I always saw the smile. Quippy posts, esoteric or anachronistic, but always there bringing ME a smile...or a retrospective thought.
The pain in his closest friends' faces, when they shared the 'news' (so vile to say it that way, like it's a story on the local stations...but it was 'news' to us in the tragic way). That killed me a little inside. Wanting to be closer to them, to be able to offer more in the way of support...and knowing I couldn't...and shame at those feelings, because it felt as though I was making it about me inside.
Helplessness...that's where it all crashes in. Can't DO anything. Just feel.
Knowing that, no matter what, I cannot even imagine the level of helplessness felt by those that were actually present when it happened.
Knowing that, no matter what, the void for his closest friends and family cannot be filled.
Knowing that nothing can be said that can wash away the pain and loss...or come out, in some fashion, a bit trite.
A youth died this weekend.
A friend passed this weekend.
A genuinely GOOD human being has left us...and we are all just a little smaller for it.
Ian,
I wish I'd been a better friend, and I hope I can be a better friend to those you were closest to.
You are missed.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Grey Knights intial reactions...brief impressions
So, a brief exposure and some perusal...and I am, disappointed?
Two things jump out at me. First, and dearest to my heart, my beloved 'Nids have received the final kick to the groin...and they don't even have nads.
This is not an 'oh noes, my army is the suxor' reaction (or 'or GK are sooo OP'). It's simply reality. Entire units wherein EVERY weapon has the FW ability combined with gear that can make the Instant Death effect go off automatically...combined with bonus attacks from the same gear. Yeah, it's bad.
Second, and more significant overall, an easily broken and spammed unit. The Inquisitorial Retinue.
For the meagre cost of a 100pt Special Character (Coteaz, who in and of himself is a good buy regardless) they become troops.
With 5 psykers, two Jakaero weaponsmiths and a Chimera, you produce obscene amounts of mid-range (or longer) strength 7/9 AP 2 fire...coupled with the fire off the Chimera itself. fewer than 200pts per unit of that build type, combined with other build types (storm bolter/storm shield toting dudes and melta/plas spam) and we're starting to see one of the strengths of the IG 'dex bleeding through.
With changes, yes, but still there in even more variable form. Transportable CC units, melta throwaway, and assigned FNP wound soaks.
The potential for abuse OUTSIDE the Grey Knights kind of disappoints me. The fact that competitive lists that are going to come out of this (for the near future, I think) may very well have FEW grey knights...well...is that really Codex Grey Knights?
Now, the pix look awesome. The GK units combine to produce fluffy, boosted, nasty elements that are going to have issues where they should and be strong where they should.
Overall I think that if you play GK you will have fun, fluffy, hardcore play.
If you go to tourney and see your opponent pull out a GK codex, you may just expect to see a great deal of chimera, stormraven and Techmarine spam.
My INITIAL impressions...
Two things jump out at me. First, and dearest to my heart, my beloved 'Nids have received the final kick to the groin...and they don't even have nads.
This is not an 'oh noes, my army is the suxor' reaction (or 'or GK are sooo OP'). It's simply reality. Entire units wherein EVERY weapon has the FW ability combined with gear that can make the Instant Death effect go off automatically...combined with bonus attacks from the same gear. Yeah, it's bad.
Second, and more significant overall, an easily broken and spammed unit. The Inquisitorial Retinue.
For the meagre cost of a 100pt Special Character (Coteaz, who in and of himself is a good buy regardless) they become troops.
With 5 psykers, two Jakaero weaponsmiths and a Chimera, you produce obscene amounts of mid-range (or longer) strength 7/9 AP 2 fire...coupled with the fire off the Chimera itself. fewer than 200pts per unit of that build type, combined with other build types (storm bolter/storm shield toting dudes and melta/plas spam) and we're starting to see one of the strengths of the IG 'dex bleeding through.
With changes, yes, but still there in even more variable form. Transportable CC units, melta throwaway, and assigned FNP wound soaks.
The potential for abuse OUTSIDE the Grey Knights kind of disappoints me. The fact that competitive lists that are going to come out of this (for the near future, I think) may very well have FEW grey knights...well...is that really Codex Grey Knights?
Now, the pix look awesome. The GK units combine to produce fluffy, boosted, nasty elements that are going to have issues where they should and be strong where they should.
Overall I think that if you play GK you will have fun, fluffy, hardcore play.
If you go to tourney and see your opponent pull out a GK codex, you may just expect to see a great deal of chimera, stormraven and Techmarine spam.
My INITIAL impressions...
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