The (Not So New) Eldar Codex Review: How does it affect my army?

The biggest hit delivered by the new Eldar codex to my Craftworld was the number of Fire Dragons that I'm allowed to take. That however, was the only drawback to my army, as others relatively remained the same.

Sticking to The (self-made) Fluff

One of the direct repercussions of the Great Fall was that there are only three Aspect Shrines remaining in Craftworld Ilfirin; Fire Dragons, Dire Avengers and Warp Spiders, with Fire Dragons being the most numerous Aspect of all. There are two aspects that intrigued me in the new codex, which are the Dark Reapers and the Swooping Hawks. After thinking this through, I've decided to be consistent with my original fluff.

Craftworld Ilfirin is blessed by Cegorach, represented by the Harlequins. This explains my wild and erratic colour scheme; bright orange, dark blue, and 'midnight' stars. The Craftworld was also among the lucky ones to have a lot of Bonesingers. This concept is represented by Guardians operating various vehicles to war. If you've seen my army, War/Wasp Walkers and various skimmers dominate the table. Eldar is a dying race but they are also more technologically advanced as compared to the monkeighs. This was one of the reasons for the mechanised approach rather than going the compact and elite path.

Being blessed by Cegorach also means that my army will have very minimal 'Walking Dead' and absolutely no Avatars of Khaine. This means Wraithguards/blades, Wraithlords, Wraithknights, and Hemlock Wraithfighter are at the bottom of my consideration during army building. I do have a Wraithlord though, but it's more of a centrepiece rather than gaming purposes. And Eldrad, is simply out of the question since he is an Ulthwe. Has never played him and will never play him as a 'counts as', despite what people say.

The New Stuff

The Crimson Hunter was immediately out of the question since it's considered an Aspect, not even considering it as a centrepiece. As for the Wraithknight, I may paint one in the future since by fluff (adapted from the old Revenant Titan fluff), the construct has a Guardian pilot inside despite it also having his/her twin ghost in its circuit. This will be a future centrepiece project, but shall never be considered for gaming purposes.

Playing to My Strengths

The strengths of War Walkers and Wasp Assault Walkers are quite obvious. I do not need to elaborate on the rate of fire they bring to the table. My army's hidden strength that has been boosted by the new codex are actually the Guardian Jetbikes (also now known as the Windriders) and the Vypers. The 6th Edition rules gave them Jink and high mobility, while the new codex greatly blessed them with BS4. The latter changed my army dynamics by a huge margin.

Double Guide-seers were the backbone of my army in the old codex, and I can now field a single Farseer with Guide and Prescience instead. BUT, by having army-wide BS4 as a default, I am now less reliant on my Farseer as the rest of my army are more capable than before. The farseer's psychic abilities can be viewed as sharpening a samurai blade.

Glaring Weaknesses Observed

With the crazy torrent of lasers/shurikens in my army, flyers are not a big concern as I have glanced a number of them to death. The Wave Serpents' shield also contributed to the cause. My Achilles heel is AV14, especially when fielded in bunches. This was previously not a problem since the Fire Dragons were cheaper (and I used to play with 24 of them). As I said before, Wraithguards are not in my consideration. I've found Brightlance Vypers to be unreliable for this role. My other current options are to switch the Wave Serpents' turrets to Brightlances, or change my sole Fire Prism to a Falcon instead. I haven't decided yet, and will look through the codex again in case I missed anything.

That's all for now. I'm not going to bore you with more words, and I'm pretty sure not many enjoy this aspect of the game. My next posts after this will be all about the Warriors of Tzeentch, as I'm entering them for Legio Malaysia's 2nd Army Throwdown. A total of 15 participants have pledged to take part in this installment. The challenge for me would be figuring out on how to showcase my army and make it 'pop' since there are four Warriors of Chaos armies (including mine) participating in the event.

Island of Fire : Path of the Star

 “For an Asrai to walk into fire, nothing but doom awaits. Island of Fire, a name fitting for the mysterious burning island, a place thought to be even more mythical than the spirits of Athel Loren. It was long told that on every undisclosed period of time, the island will magically summon various warbands from all over the world against their will. Brace yourselves o'kinsmen, for the dreaded time is foreseen to arrive soon. There’s only one manner for you to return home, the most basic general rule of all; Survival of the Fittest.” - Spellsinger Aerith Brightwood

***

The young and rash Gilrhath Whipvine was always the unlucky one. The first to hunt, yet the last for feast; the first for inception, yet the last for reception. This time, his patrol was sucked into a magical vortex as he was patrolling the borders of Athel Loren. As he arrived, Aerith’s recent teachings came to mind; this would probably the Island of Fire. It appeared that the vortex has brought some of the ever-present Forest Spirits and the lost Minaith elves too. The denizens of Athel Loren are well-known for their fearless and no mercy attitude, but the ghastly sight of surrounding tree-less inferno brought fear to their eyes. One by one, several other vortices materialized on the island. The closest warbands to Gilrhath’s patrol was the Lizardmen of Lustria and the non-living Lahmians. As the Asrai silently trudging to avoid the nasty savage warbands, a psychic explosion boomed, deafened their senses, and subsequently, the consciousness faded away.

Gilrhath slowly picked himself up, with a throbbing pain at the back of his skull. This is the first time he experienced this sensation, and to his surprise, even the forest spirits felt them too. Helping his kinsmen to their feet, whilst trying to sober himself, four words nagged annoyingly in his mind: Fight or Die, Now! The nearby Lustrians and Lahmians seemed to be affected too. Seizing the chance, the young elf led his kinsmen away to safety; with the hope of the warbands annihilating themselves, and for them to strike against the final survivor when they least expected.

Their getaway brought them into contact with a familiar face, the famous Paladin Piotr and the horse-riders. His gracious deeds in supporting Aerith during the Battle of Fortenhaf were sung in harmony throughout the forest back home. To have an ally in such a dread place of this was very valuable. But the realisation came late. Swallowed either by madness or desperation to survive, the Brettonians charged without warning. Gilrhath and his Glade Guards were caught unprepared by the unexpected turn of event. Doom was imminent, but the ever-ready forest spirits blocked the charge which allowed the Minaith elves to unleash their lethal shots and allowed the elves a swift escape from oblivion.

Relief and confusion were mixed altogether. Realising that the danger was real, the only way for them to survive was to come out on top. Gathering all knowledge and experience that each of them had, a list of plans were mapped out. The first plan was assassination, and the first victim was the keigh-mons of Sigmar. The Minaith elves went way beyond enemy lines, while the rest of the Kindred shall move forward utilising the terrains and cover. Suffice to say, the plan worked to an almost perfection. The Empire engineer wasn’t successfully assassinated, but was demoralized just enough to send their warband into disarray.

The second plan was seizing grounds, and the victim was one of their most hated adversaries, the Druuchi. The Minaith elves and Gilrhath himself went into enemy territory separately and caused chaos. Whatever that survived the hail of doom arrows, were met with another hail of arrow from the Glade Guards. Since the enemies were Druuchi, the Asrai were merciless, and were shot down into pieces.

The third plan was capture and control, and another nemesis was the victim, the Bearded Stunties. The Kindred was a bit caught off guard as the Dwarves were more agile than usual. Agility does not necessarily means speed and the Kindred led the Dwarves around aimlessly. Again, the Dwarves surprised them when one of their regiments managed to pursue the bowmen. Despite it being a much mobilized skirmish, the elves won the match as their nimbleness proved too much for their foes.

Slowly but surely, the Kindred was approaching salvation. The next foe was seemed pre-destined to be the Asur. Feeling the frustration of abandonment swelling from within, Gilrhath unleashed a malicious barrage of arrows, annihilating an entire Asur bowmen regiment in one shot. They responded with two magical fireball volleys of their own, which massacred the forest spirits. Spiteful of the treachery of old, the remaining Asur was then sandwiched by cascading arrows from front and back. The warriors of Chrace were tough warriors, but even that wasn’t enough. After three salvos from the fore and rear, they were shred to pieces before they even manage to engage in close combat.

As soon as the last Asur fell to the ground, they were sucked again into the vortex. Floating in the maelstrom of ever-changing continuum, the only thing that came to Gilrhath’s mind was Athel Loren, wishing to see his green, luscious beautiful home one more time before his life was taken away. Then, everything was pitch black.

***

A stinging sensation over his left shoulder woke Gilrhath up. In a dreamy state, he discovered a burning disc marking inscribed to his skin. Afterwards, he noticed that he was in the infirmary, together with the surviving brethren from the Island of Fire. Apparently, all of them had the same marking on their left shoulders. Suddenly, he felt some eyes were watching. It was Aerith’s and Elendil’s, his mentors.

“Survive he did. Luck has finally befallen the unlucky one,” said Aerith, smiling.

Elendil then added, “He is an Arhain now. Our guidance is no more needed.”

Gilrhath, still holding on at the pain on his left shoulder, could only look quizzically at his mentors, “But...”

Aerith responded, “Young one no more, you are not.  Your Kindred, this is now, vindicated by the mark of the Chosen Ones. In Mordheim, destiny awaits.”

Both Aerith and Elendil then bowed at him in respect and simply left, leaving him behind in puzzlement.

K2: Tales of the Harlequin, Part 6 : Aul'thavon

“Burn everything!”

Fuegan’s intimidating warcry was probably the last thing heard by the Alpha Legion marines. Despite being supported by two Defiler monstrosities and several Dreadnought sarcophagi, the heretics were completely mowed down by the Fire Dragons.

The Alpha Legion has been relentlessly pursuing their Aul’thavon kindred ever since the Great Betrayal. Apparently, Aul’thavon has managed to retrieve something from Arenxis, something that the Alpha Legion has great interest on. Yesterday, it seemed like the fate of Aul’thavon was about to end as they were pinned down from all sides by the heretics. Salvation came from the skies as a webway portal materialized above the battlefield and from it, a barrage of melta bombs rained down on the enemy, soon followed by the Fire Dragons led by their Phoenix Lord himself and joined by the ever enigmatic Harlequins. The assault was fast and ferocious, like a tidal wave against the beach. In a split cycle, the enemies were completely decimated.

As the Phoenix Lord scoured the battlefield, a robed figure approached him. It was Farseer Dann, the leader of Craftworld Aul’thavon. In a blink of an eye, a Shadowseer joined the duo.

“You’ve kept your promise, as I have never doubted. I believe you’d want this,” said the farseer while handing the Shadowseer a trinket with his right hand.

Both Fuegan and the Shadowseer nodded and accepted the item.

The farseer then continued, “Tell Alcar that he has our full support. Glory for the Eldar!”

Then, all the Fire Dragons and Harlequins disappeared as abruptly as they appeared before.

***

K2: Tales of the Harlequin, Part 4 & 5

PART 4 : THE DARK KIN

Minaith, the Ilfirin’s Eclipse Cruiser, vanished into the webway just as soon as it embarked from the Saim-Hann Haven Spire, transporting the Ilfirin Guardians that were trained by the Wild Riders. They have been trained well, and to properly utilize that knowledge, they shall be given unique vehicles. Unbeknownst to the Guardians, the webway leads straight to Commoragh.

***

 The exchange was made in secrecy; pure untainted Spirit Stones and runes to ward off Slaanesh for a dozen jetbikes. These weren’t the typical ordinary jetbikes used by neither of the Eldars. The Kabal of the Disembowlers has further customized them for maneuvers in extreme speeds and altitudes, in which was brought into attention by the Harlequins. As the last jetbike was loaded into Minaith, guided by the Harlequins, the cruiser then sailed away from Commoragh as swiftly as possible.

The Guardians and these jetbikes, shall go on a field trial run soon, in collaboration with the fungi allies of the sons of the Star Child.

***

PART 5 : ALAITOC

Streaming the maze-like webway, Minaith darted across unfazed by the illuminous dazzling lights around gracefully like a swan in the lake.  Then, they shot through a gap in the maze and materialized just above their homebase. A message then appeared on the main screen, bearing the symbol of Craftworld Alaitoc.

Shaedasi tia shyraess, caer os shasol

Si monkeigh eisi byr sai shi seraer, si theleryr aelael tysi

Kysia shi mael, sher vae air mar byr shi os pyrdar

Tae si Kyr shaer os ilfirin colaer

(translation)

Beware my brothers, heed our warning

The monkeighs are not to be trusted, the fungusfolk even more

Glory we seek, but pray it shall not be our downfall

May the Gods bless our immortal kindred

***

K2: Tales of the Harlequin, Part 3

“Where am I?”

Nothingness all around, total silence everywhere. It was not for long, as the emptiness was broken by a sudden throbbing sound to her right. It was the engine, struggling to function normally as a laser shot pierced through the holofield.

  

Then, it dawned upon her. She was piloting her Falcon on a reconnaissance mission, before she was ambushed by the daemonic monkeighs. Doom was definitely impending and somehow, she ended up in this mysterious null void.

A shrieking laughter broke the tranquility.

“Fear not my child for you has been chosen by Cegorach. Now, fly towards the light.”

***

“Another one?”

The Yme-Loc artisan looked quizzically as an Iybraesil Falcon materialized through the webway gate. It was simply astonishing to see how the Harlequins obtained their resources. All manners of damaged vehicles from all sorts of Craftworlds and Corsairs were salvaged in the last few months. In respect to their pact, they wouldn’t dare to question the Harlequins. Especially, since that person made a sudden appearance within their midst.

“Is it true? Is it really that near?” the artisan questioned himself.

The port door suddenly opened, and ranks of warriors from the Fire Dragon Path emerged from the doorway. Then, he walked out ceremoniously.

The Yme-Loc then mumbled, “Speak of the phoenix…”

***

K2: Tales of the Harlequin, Part 2

The red-garbed figure was sitting quietly at the end of the room. This person, whom most believed to be almost as potent as the legendary Eldrad, was reading a book regarding the history of the Old Ones’ lizard-like servants. A small webway portal suddenly materialized right in front of him, yet the great farseer maintained his calmness. Instead he spoke,

“I’ve been expecting you, my brother. Came to reclaim your guardians, are you not?”

An orange-robed figure wearing very intricate bone armour underneath walked out of the portal, nodded and smiled courteously as he took off his ghosthelm. As it has always been, accompanying by his side was a herald of Cegorach.

There was a long history between these two farseers, but a quite recent event made strengthened their friendship, respect and alliance. The Saim-Hann, at that time needed manpower to join the war of Arenxis. The Ilfirin had the support of multiple Exodite worlds, but not the skills and knowledge of the path of Khaine. The need was mutual, and an agreement was achieved.

The three figures walked in unison towards the viewing glass. The Saim-Hann has built a Haven Spire in the midst of many asteroid fields within the Glenmarie Sector. As they were looking out, observing the multiple dragonships and wraithships under construction, the harlequin suddenly hymned,

“Craftworlds and Corsairs must be united. Then, the five shall gather.

The Maugetar and The Master of Blades must be sought. Then, there will be seven.”

As the Saim-Hann farseer looked quizzically at the harlequin, the Ilfirin farseer spoke,

“That’s…another reason I’m here, brother. We need your help to get in touch with Altansar again, we need Maugan-Ra.”

The red farseer immediately replied, “It shall be done. You’ve probably figured out of Arhra’s whereabouts, am I not wrong?”

His counterpart smiled again. Then, while putting on his ghosthelm, he answered,

“That will be all, brother. And, as you’ve said earlier, I need my men back. Minaith will be here shortly.”

The Ilfirin farseer and the harlequin stepped into the webway and disappeared.

K2: Tales of the Harlequin, Part 1

***

In a serene silent night, a light flickered deep in the thick jungle of the luscious basin. Silhouettes of figures were curiously observing the mesmerizing graceful dance of the lanky figure by the bonfire. With a mask of an ever-changing expression, the figure garbed in the diamond checkered pattern continues to dance while singing the tales of the past and the future.

Arenxis Minoris…corrupted.

Amman Prime…obliterated.

Ghemehaal…infested.

The mask turned grim.

Hell, the future shall be.

Putrid stench of death, polluting the air.

Harbingers of apocalypse transpires, doom imminent.

All manners of vampiric mon-keighs are converging; azure, ruby, jet, ivory, and even those tainted by the Old Ones.

Feral wolves thundering with their bloody claws and long fangs, with mercy as cold as the arctic wind.

Beyond control the Devouring Hive has been, consuming everything in its path.

The mask then brightened.

All is not lost.

Glitter of hope, there is.

Lay with the mon-keigh, it is.

Ilfirin shall be witness of the future, as it was foreseen.

They shall carve the path for our ascension to our former glory.

By the blessings of Cegorach, Glory for the Eldar!

The last few words inspired the Exodites and they cheered in unison, emboldened. The herald of Cegorach’s mask smiled during evanescence.

***

Tales of Dresden (Part One)

A skull-helmed armored figure sat hunched by the flickering bonfire, silently observing at his warband scouring the battlefield for the spoils of war. Their laughters and joyful shouts whenever they managed to find something valuable brought back memories.

He was previously known as Lord Dresden Kell, a Knight of the Realm, and brother to Madrox Kell, the Baron of Schattenberg. It was a peaceful land; calm and serene. He was greatly respected and envied for his combat prowess in all of Schattenberg, a region in the dukedom of Parravon. For all his greatness however, not few despised him. In fact, he was rather notorious for his public declaration of loyalty to only the Land of Brettonia, and not towards the Lady of the Lake. That was, perhaps, the main factor for his fall from grace. Now, he’s only known as Dresden, a heretic, an exiled knight, the Skull Warrior.

He reminisced the events that lead to his downfall. It was not long ago when the stunted dwarves were a menace to Parravon. A neighbouring outmost region of Parravon, has suffered the biggest loss and therefore requested aid from Schattenberg to quell the menace. Madrox and eight other barons agreed to help, and to their surprise, the mysterious Asrai had agreed to help too.

Ten allied regions and one Asrai host however, were still not enough to repel the dwarven incursion. He still remembered clearly on the day when his brother announced that Shin, an avatar of Lady of the Lake, has answered his prayers and has bestowed upon him the blessings of the Lady. The announcement was greatly celebrated by the whole Schattenburg regiment. Being the atheist that he is, Dresden could care less about this. Suspicion did later grew when similar incidences were reported within the allies, but he was only focused on the war and for the glory of Brettonia. During the battle, Dresden noticed that his brother and eight other barons’ figures were gradually becoming more blur for each time they successfully slayed a dwarven Thane.

With blessings from the Lady, the allied forces were able to defeat the Dwarves but it was not without a cost; only one third of the Brettons survived and less than half of that were uninjured. To make matters worse, the alliance was broken immediately as the hail of arrows that rained upon the dwarves before, now rained at their direction. And he was pretty sure the trees were marching towards them too. Confusion was undeniably prominent within the ranks.

Suddenly, one of the barons led his force against the other nine and only then things became clear. There were nine avian-like armoured clad monsters in the place of where the barons used to be, and they were slaughtering the knights that used to be their allies and custodians. Numerous arrows punctured through their flesh and wings, yet they just shrugged them off and kept fighting. Realizing the impending danger that might befell him, Dresden shouted a battlecry and charged headlong towards the monsters. The rest of the army followed suit.

What happened later was blurry as Dresden was deep into battle frenzy. Only when his sword stabbed on the ridge between the eyes of his former brother did he regain full consciousness. As he looked around, the other former barons were either impaled by multiple swords and lances, or somehow magically laid beneath large trees. The losses were even greater than before, only less than a hundred Bretton still breathing in pain and agony. The Asrai have sheathed their bows and tend to the injured humans, while the mages tapped into their close link to nature to heal the mortal wounds whenever possible. A female elf offered his hand to Dresden, and spoke to him while she helped to lift him up to his feet,

“Beware of the Changer of Ways.”

And then she left into the forest along with the rest of her kinsfolk, leaving the healed survivors behind. The surviving baron gathered all that was left of his forces and marched straight towards Scarlag Castle, while the others marched back to their own respective regions. Dresden and the surviving Schattenberg knights stayed back for a while, only returning home after he set the former Baron of Schattenberg’s twisted body on a funeral pyre.

Two months passed. It was a typical rural morning; the bright yellow sun has just risen in the east, the pleasant smell of fresh morning air, the ebbing sound of the flowing river, birds chirping cheerfully in the trees. Alas, it was not to be.

Clatters of hooves and a loud ruckus broke the morning serenity. Schattenberg were invaded and citizens were driven out of their homes. Houses and fields were burnt to the ground, horses and livestocks confiscated. All of this horrific incident was personally witnessed by the Duke of Parravon, accompanied by his Grail Knights.

Dresden and all the remaining knights of Schattenberg were then stripped of their royalty and knighthood, while each and every citizen were branded as heretics; all this as a result of the aftermath following the Dwarven war. Schattenberg was completely burnt to the ground, erased from the map of Brettonia, and the citizens were exiled from the Land of Brettonia. Apparently, the other regions that participated in the war also had similar fate as they; man, women, children, the elderly, were all herded like cattles northwards towards the Empire of Sigmar and out of Brettonia.

Devoid of any possession, the former Brettons lived like beggars in the Empire. They did manage to settle down for a while before being driven out again after word circulating regarding the fate of their former barons. None would take them in anymore, and their former knights can only lead their people further up north. By this moment, the exiled ones has completely denounced the Lady of the Lake for condemning them to such fate. More people joined along the way, mostly are outcasts from the Empire, including Dresden’s current brother-in-arms, Matthias Nilstrom. The mix of people with different backgrounds brought new teachings and enlightenment to the group; thus the new-found faith they discover, the religion of Tchar. Dresden however, remained a non-believer.

The outcasts finally settled in a Norse territory, just north of the Empire city called Erengard. By some kind of weird luck, they found a settlement where the settlers also dedicated their faith to the religion of Tchar. Despite the unfriendly cold weathers, the outcasts lived in harmony with the Norse people, and defended their territory against soldiers from the Empire and beasts such as trolls. Finally, they have a place to call home and together, they prayed to Tchar and hope for a better life bestowed upon them.

Happiness again filled Dresden’s soul, knowing that his people were now much happier and safer from what was before. However, the knightly soul in him was rather unhappy on a settled life. He later join the local warband but soon discovered a huge obstacle; fighting on a frozen wasteland was totally a new experience for him compared to horseback battles. As a matter of fact, horses were quite uncommon in the current region he lives. Dresden lived up to the challenge, endured all the obstacles, and proved his worth. It was only a matter of time when the battle standard was trusted to him.

***

Another armored figure approached, hooded and carrying a staff, then sat next to te skull-helmed warrior. Matthias Nilstrom, the self proclaimed Shadowmage, joined the amusement of observing the scavenging hunt. Matthias has yet to cast a single successful spell despite the mage status that he claimed to be, and currently being the subject of ridicule by the other warriors in the warband. As a matter of fact, they were more respectful of his combat prowess rather than his magic ability, as he once managed to inflict a serious wound on an Empire general in a hand-to-hand combat.

Moments passed by, and then Matthias spoke.

“Rest easy, my brother. For tomorrow we shall beat down those Sigmar dogs back to where they came from.”

***