In the Warhammer community, direct accusations of cheating are rare, even in large tournaments when hefty prizes and bragging rights are on the line. On the occasions when they are made these accusations are generally met with disdain in full force from others players, even when the facts are substantiated. A good example of this comes from the 2008 ‘Ard Boyz Tournament finals in which the overall winner was found to have disregarded his army’s disadvantageous deployment rules (the Daemonic Assault rule) in one of the scenarios, one in which he happened to score a massacre against his opponent. When news of what transpired was broken on Dakka Dakka an astonishing number of posters immediately tried to play down the events, claiming that everything was on the up-and-up, it was an honest mistake, and so on—anything other than to confront the possibility that someone had cheated their way to victory in a premiere community event.

Psychologists might refer to this collective behavior in terms of cognitive dissonance resulting from the simultaneously held beliefs that GW would never allow such an egregious violation at a national tournament and that such a violation did indeed occur. To ease the uncomfortable tension caused by holding conflicting beliefs we simply rationalize one or the other. For the generally passive, non-confrontational nature of the hobbyist crowd the decision defaults along the lines of authoritarian thinking: GW didn’t sanction the player so therefore the player is guilty of no wrongdoing. Instead, the accuser becomes the accused and “sour grapes” becomes the favorite buzz phrase. Rabble, rabble, rabble, et cetera.

Most anecdotal accounts of cheating cite instances of dice loading, rolling techniques (i.e., palming, sliding), moving figures when a player isn’t looking, measuring front-to-back, and so on, each embodying explicit intent to gain an unfair advantage over their opponent. While these may be the most famous methods, they are not the most common. I drudge up the aforementioned ‘Ard Boyz example not to further beat a dead horse (even if he deserves a few anniversary whacks), but to illustrate one of the most frequently encountered and most subtle forms of cheating in Warhammer 40k: rules manipulation.

At this point I’m sure many of you have the phrase “rules lawyer” flashing in your heads. Let me be the one to nip it in the bud. The term “rules lawyer” is generally use in a derogatory sense by poor players offended at the notion that they should be required to play the rules as they are written. While most of the 40k rules are quite clear, there are also many instances where they are not and interpretation is required. At these junctures we are all lawyers of the rules, charged with finding the most appropriate and sensible interpretation of what is said and, sometimes, what is meant. In fact, I would go as far as to say that being a “rules lawyer” is a necessary condition for the Competitive Gamer because treating the rules as law and applying them unconditionally and consistently across situations is absolutely vital to fair play. And, as stated in previous parts of this series, fair play is the backbone of competitive play. Leveraging an unfair advantage to win would neither be satisfying to nor tolerated by the Competitive Gamer.

Unfortunately, not all members of our gaming community subscribe to this philosophy, and even those who do are prone to straying from its ideals. It is not uncommon for players to conveniently forget inconvenient rules. Sometimes they play dumb, acting like they didn’t know the rule existed if and when it is pointed out to them. Other times these players will forcibly argue for one particular interpretation of a vague rule that benefits them in that moment, but then argue the opposite when the tables are turned. Even more subtle are situations where players question the validity of unquestionably clear rules in order to cast doubt on the conventional interpretation and convince their opponent to agree to a roll-off, giving the perpetrator a 50/50 chance of cheating their way to an advantage. There are even times when players will attempt to manipulate tournament judges by approaching them alone and providing one-sided arguments so as to improve the chances of a favorable ruling (judgehammer). I have witnessed these in both casual and in tournament play, and they are all forms of cheating.

Why do people cheat? It should be noted that not all cheating is intentional. There will always be times when you roll 11 shots instead of 10, when you’re convinced the range on that power is 18” not 12”, or when you play a full game, go home, and then realize that your list was 50 points over. While these are technically cheating and the “victim” deserves to be notified (especially at a competitive event), intent carries a lot of weight here. I firmly believe that these infractions deserve a special category separate from more insidious methods of cheating opponents.

Freud would argue that there are no mistakes, that these are a result of subconscious motivations that bleed through into our behavior. This theory goes a long way to explaining why tournaments sometimes seem to bring out the worst in people. Everyone is prone to bias, particularly when it comes to highly subjective rules interpretations, and this bias can be greatly magnified when prizes and egos are on the line. It is important for all players interested in fair play to recognize this bias and to do their best to eliminate it. Whether you intend to cheat or not, it is ultimately the outcome of that cheating that matters to other players, each of whom have the right to expect a fair game. At a tournament, by cheating your opponent you not only cheat him, but everyone else participating in the event by skewing the scores and the pairings. The competition aspect is compromised, which, depending on the severity of the infraction, can ruin the whole tournament.

There is never an acceptable reason to cheat, even if you feel you’ve been cheated yourself. Ironically, psychology studies have shown that many people who suspect that they have been the victims of foul play will rationalize cheating themselves as a defensive response to restore fairness. This in turn increases the likelihood that the victim will retaliate, and soon things spiral out of control. Of course, this goes hand in hand with psychological projection: the cheaters are themselves inclined to cheat and so they expect others are as well, then their expectations of being cheated increase their likelihood of cheating.

In many discussions of ethics it seems pertinent to invoke the Golden Rule (“do unto others…”), but a more appropriate normative prescription in this case is the lesser-known Silver Rule: do not do unto others as you would not have them do unto you.

(Coming next: Part VI – Tournaments, not Hobby Competitions)

Fortunately, Black Matt over at the Black Legion Blog provides a cheap and effective custom Mycetic Spore model. Standing 5.5″ tall, these models are approximately the same dimensions as the Space Marine drop pod. Each is hand-made and textured and, as I can attest to personally, looks great in person.

Be sure to click the pictures to get a better look and head on over to the Black Legion Blog to pick some up!

On January 20^th, a new version of the Space Wolves FAQ was released that reversed the ruling made regarding the combination of counter-attack and furious charge. The reversal now concludes definitively that the counter-attack does NOT trigger the bonuses associated with the furious charge universal special rule.

Presumably, this was done because of the unanticipated side effects that the ruling would have both for Tervigon swarms and IG Straken infantry blobs. It’s a good ruling that’s consistent with how most people play the game and settles the issue once and for all. I’ve decided to leave the article up because the Tervigon mathhammering is still applicable, and because the unit remains the premiere selection in the codex.

On the eve of the 5^th edition Tyranid codex release, it looks like GW is poised to drop their third top-notch quality codex in a row. While I don’t think the Tyranid book will throw them into the same competitive level as IG and Space Wolves, anything that improves upon the crapfest that is their current army is a giant leap in the right direction.

A few weeks ago, a scanned copy of the new codex leaked from stores in Germany and perhaps the first stand-out unit apparent to everyone was the Tervigon. In addition to being an affordable monstrous creature that can count as Troops and spawn new units, the Tervigon also serves as a potent force multiplier for all nearby Termagaunt units. With the appropriate loadout, these beasts are giving counter-attack, synapse, Ld10, furious charge, and poisoned attacks to an infinite number of critters, albeit within a small radius. Sounds good? Yes, it does. But that’s not the half of it.

Last week, GW released an extremely comprehensive FAQ for their last codex release, the Space Wolves. In it they included the following gem:

Q. Picture this: My Grey Hunters unit including Ragnar Blackmane is assaulted and makes a successful Leadership test to Counter-attack. Do they then benefit from his Furious Charge ability (+1 S and +1 I)? Also, can the original assaulter then deploy defensive grenades to rob the Space Wolves of their Counter-attack bonus.

A. The Counter-attack special rule states ‘all models in the unit get the +1 assault bonus to their attacks, exactly as if they too had assaulted that turn.’ Therefore Ragnar’s unit does indeed benefit from Furious Charge. Also, we think it is a bit rich for an assaulting unit to get the bonus for attacking and defending, so no, defensive grenades cannot be used to negate the bonus attack from counter-attacking.

The question of whether or not Counter-attack triggers Furious Charge has now been definitively answered: yes. One small step for gray Vikings, one giant fucking leap for man-eating bugs.

How exactly does this impact Tyranids? Refer back to the Tervigon and notice that the model is capable of granting not only Counter-attack and Furious Charge, but also Ld10 to ensure that the Counter-attack leadership check is passed. Relative to the points they cost, that’s a truckload of hurt coming your way. Oh, and they’re armed with S4 AP5 assault weapons.

Let’s go over the math of bugs getting charged by MEQs:

That’s a FIVE-FOLD increase in offensive power in addition to the less quantifiable but equally valuable benefit of killing attackers before they’re able to strike (I5 versus I4 from Furious Charge). Jack that up by another 50% by throwing in a Hive Tyrant with Ancient Enemy to get the Preferred Enemy bonus and revel in the uberness of your free throwaway Troop units.

And just how many bugs can you expect to create with a Tervigon anyway? With 10.5 Termagaunts spawned on average per attempt and a 44% chance to burnout, the answer is a lot:

Rounding to the nearest bug, you can expect to generate 23 Termagants over the course of a game for each Tervigon that you can keep alive, which shouldn’t be exceedingly hard to do given their T6 W6 Sv3+ profile and the ability to grant Feel No Pain. With 5 Tervigons on the field you will generate 112 free models (+30 more bought as Troops) all of whom can claim objectives and wreck face in the presence of a Brood Father and/or Hive Tyrant.

Now that’s not to say that a 5 Tervigon list will be effective, but it has a brutal and overwhelming appeal to it. It’s a gimmick list like any other and is unlikely to fare well in an all-comers tournament environment, however it is also incredibly hard to beat in Sieze Ground scenarios. Perhaps the biggest challenge will be Capture & Control due to the fact that mobs of infantry do not move quickly across even open terrain.

As for myself, having recently playtested a 4 Tervigon list against Brother Captain James, who has been very successful in local tournaments, I’m leaning more towards taking 3 and investing the leftover points in more mobile units that can hope to contest home base objectives that inevitably find their way into a corners of the board. 100 furiously charging, poisoned gaunts is still nothing to sneeze at.

When at the top of their game, elitists take great pleasure at trumpeting their own prowess and claiming that luck has nothing to do with winning. When on the down-and-out, they will often (not so) humbly admit to being victims of the cruel dice gods. While it’s no coincidence that players stratify in mostly predictable patterns when subjected to repeated sorting (e.g., tournament rounds), it takes but a few ounces of common sense to recognize that luck also plays an important role in the 41^st millennium.

Good strategy is based on good tactics. Good tactics require good rules knowledge. And practical application of rules knowledge needs an understanding of probabilities. Dedicating units to block an enemy’s retreat from assault is only a good idea if you stand a reasonably good chance of winning that assault, and if the enemy has a good chance of falling back as a result. Figuring out the right application of force likely to bring about a desired outcome is a critical part of 40k. Remember those 3rd grade lessons on fractions, boys and girls:! So-called “mathhammer” forms the hard core of Warhammer tactics.

Rudimentary statistical theory demonstrates that increasing sample size is a surefire way to ensure that actual outcomes approach predicted outcomes (based on probability). Those that have taken introductory statistics courses will recognize this as the basis of the chi-square test. Practically speaking, you’re much more likely to get all hits when rolling 3 dice than when rolling 30. Over the course of a game we roll hundreds of dice which will probably conform to our expectations when taken as a whole, however when we recognize that these many roll are split up into a large number of different types of rolls we begin to see how individual sample sizes are actually fairly small. Say you roll 180 dice over the course of you game but only 12 of them were for leadership tests. Perhaps you rolled exactly 30 6’s, which is expected, but 10 of them were rolled for leadership tests. Looking at the game as a whole one might conclude you were neither lucky nor unlucky, however you clearly got the wrong end of the leprechaun.

Not only is luck intertwined with tactics, but good strategy must also take chance into consideration. Good strategies are adaptable and are not overly reliant on things going according to plan—if your hopes of victory can be dashed by a single bad roll then your overall strategy wasn’t sound to begin with. Understanding probabilities involves the acknowledgement that improbable events can and will, in fact, happen. Part of being a successful strategist is planning for when things don’t go according to plan.

The above sentiment is partially expressed in a thread by Deadshane posted a few months ago on Dakka Dakka. The initial claim, that luck is never (ever!) to blame for outcomes, is patently false by virtue of its absolutism. While it is true that players will often scapegoat luck when their own inadequacies are to blame, to completely minimize the effects of chance on winning and losing is a curious notion. More curious is that he actually attempts to defend this assertion before ultimately caving to mounting criticism, backpedaling just far enough to maintain that luck is rarely to blame, but is sometimes a factor.

Strangest of all is the support he receives from one member in particular (Nurglitch):

If hypothetical player X fails every single roll in game Y then he failed as a player because he did not adjust his strategy to cope with the worst possible luck. There’s more to 40k than rolling dice.

Even when presented with a hypothetical situation where Player A makes every roll and player B fails every roll he maintains that a “good” player would be able to overcome the disadvantage through skill/tactics/force of will/whatever. I don’t like to use this space to badmouth people, but it’s these kinds of posters who drag down the quality of online discussion. He seems intelligent enough, but despite his verbosity (read the thread to get a taste) he seems utterly incapable of forming a singular thought, much less a coherent argument. Not that it stops him from posting. Yay internets.

(Coming next:  Part V – The Cheater Within)

Strategy

Strategy is your over-arching framework, your master plan from the point of conception of your army. Strategy begins with list building which in turn determines what assets your army will have at its disposal and, by extension, what you can or cannot hope to accomplish. Your choices will impact how you play 40k and they should always be made with fulfilling mission goals in mind. Each and every selection will affect the vital balancing act that is army composition.

Because mission goals are normally unknown at the outset of each match, whether rolled for randomly in a pickup game or kept secret prior to tournament rounds, strategy has a necessary fluid component. Based on the scenario presented to us we must be able to evaluate the abilities of our list, the abilities of the opposing list, and commit to a course of action that will lead to fulfillment of the victory conditions. This often involves identification and leverage of strengths, but can also include psychological elements, such as misdirection and surprise. Some strategies are geared towards combating a list and others towards combating an opponent—both are valid, effective, and can be employed concurrently.

An example of a employing a strategy would be building a mechanized, Chimera-based Imperial Guard list and pushing your tank line forward to establish a line of scrimmage on the enemy’s side of the board. In an objective-based mission this would ensure that you have control over the battlefield and, hopefully, the majority of the objectives. Leveraging your mechanized strengths (durability and volume) you can make it very difficult for the enemy to break through your line and reach objectives in later turns.

Tactics

Complementary to the broadly conceived master plan are the details-oriented tactics which are used to ensure the plan is carried out. Tactics are micro-strategies grounded in a low-level application of the rules. The best plan in the world is useless if you can’t figure out  how to make it work. Similarly, being detail-oriented without direction is equally doomed to fail. If you expect to beat competent opponents you must be capable of both coming up with adaptable plans and have the tools to set them in motion.

When I say “tools” I am really speaking of rules knowledge. Warhammer 40,000 is a game composed entirely of complex interactions between large numbers of rules pertaining to physical objects (models). Yes, the game is an approximation of science fiction warfare, but it is only that: an abstraction. Knowing how things function in real life has no bearing on how things play out in a game where evil robots and space aliens alternate turns murdering each other with laser cannons and psychic powers. However, understanding basic logic and knowing the individual rules gives you a distinct advantage of those who do not. It’s important to note that both of these traits are universally available to everyone with average intelligence and the willingness to put forth a even a modicum of effort. Because everyone is capable of developing this competency, exercising it becomes a fair part (in fact, integral part) of the game.

Continuing with the example put forth previously, let’s say one of the Chimeras on the end of the tank wall suffers a Vehicle Destroyed result by an assault-oriented unit shooting it at close range. The unit embarked must now disembark within range of the rear access point, however there are any number of ways that this unit can now be positioned even within the two-inch bubble. Knowledge of the rules becomes invaluable here as many players are unaware that the models each individually must be within 2”, but only partially so. Using this knowledge, the IG player can place the unit wholly on the side of the wrecked Chimera furthest from the attacking unit, outside of its 6” charge range. Not only does this prevent a charge, but it guarantees that the unit will be targetable in the following Shooting Phase.

Match-up

In any game system featuring distinct factions there will naturally be some that are better than others across domains. Even in a perfectly balanced rules set it is impossible to completely eliminate the rock-paper-scissors factor. Obviously, Warhammer 40,000 is not perfectly balanced and there are many match-ups which are heavily weighted in favor of one side winning over the other, even with all others factors being equal. For instance, take Necrons. Take them and drop kick them right out a third story window.

The hypothetical IG army suits our purposes again. Mechanized Imperial Guard excels in games versus opponents that struggle against vehicles, especially those who need to use assault troops as their can-openers. With players of equal skill, equally powerful lists, and equal luck, the IG player should be able to take out most Daemon and Ork armies with little effort. Likewise, well-built and well-played Dark Eldar (i.e., dark lance-heavy) will utterly crush IG armor spam.

Match-up is somewhat distinct from luck, but there are overlapping considerations. Most of the time our opponents are not selected at random, and we always have the discretion of turning down a match. In tournaments we have less control over who we face, especially in the first round where pairings are usually random. While all armies have good and bad match-ups, one of the most important features of a “good” army list is its ability to compete with a wide variety of opposing forces. Poorly designed lists (by virtue of being one-trick ponies or just plain sucktastic) will either have more direct counters or will be countered more efficiently. Consequently, more often than not, what players attribute to bad match-up luck is really rooted in bad army list design.

Mistakes

We all make mistakes, which are distinct from poor decisions. A poor decision is assuming your IG list doesn’t need any assault units; a mistake is forgetting to fire your Vendetta during the Shooting Phase. A poor decision is taking heavy flamers on your Crisis Suits; a mistake is forgetting that the unit you’re about to tank shock has three meltaguns in it. Often, a single mistake can determine how an entire game plays out, especially if that mistake is made at the game’s outset or during a critical turn.

You can minimize mistakes by exercising your 40k muscle (i.e., practicing), but, being merely human, you’ll never completely eradicate your own propensity to screw up. Just try and make less mistakes than the other guy.

(On deck: Part IV – Lucky You)

Like play, the struggle is an end but not a means for the Competitive Gamer. The Competitive Gamer revels in an equally matched struggle and he is just as happy to loser a well-played game as he is to win one. The outcome is subordinate; it is relevant only to the extent that it is determined by skill. The fun derived from the game is sporting and cerebral, not egoistic.

Sportsmanship rarely crosses the mind of the Competitive Gamer because sportsmanship comes naturally by means of self-interest: to gain an advantage through any means other than the application of skill would compromise the authenticity of the competitive struggle and dilute the fun that can be derived from it. It’s Adam Smith’s self-regulating “invisible hand” theory in the 41^st millennium. The Competitive Gamer is an athlete turned nerd with an uncompromising love and, more importantly, respect for the game, and for gaming in general.

The Competitive Gamer as described above is akin to a Greek ideal and rarely makes an appearance in real life. We’re all human and egos often overcome hubris. Nonetheless, those who really understand what it means to enjoy competition, fair competition, will incorporate these ideals into the gaming philosophy. (Call it perspective if you find the notion of a gaming philosophy pretentious). This incorporation can be conscious or unconscious, but it nonetheless forms the cornerstone of this approach to 40k.

The differences between the Competitive Gamer and the WAAC Gamer should now be readily apparent. While there exist those who have no interest in fulfilling game objectives (i.e., winning) and are content to play 40k as sci-fi role-play, most 40k gamers shuffle their plastic army men around with at least some intention of winning. Some may be less motivated to win than others, but playing the game as it is presented by the developers necessitates an attempt to accomplish some abstract goal at the expense of your opponent’s opportunity to do the same. The primary difference between Competitive and WAAC Gamers is how a win is achieved, namely that it matters to the former but not the latter.

(Continue reading: Part III – The Road to Victory)

In the grim future of the 41st millennium there exists a false dichotomy. It’s a division conceived of by embittered gamers and perpetuated by lazy groupthink. I speak of the age-old “play for fun” versus “play to win” argument. This talking point will be familiar to anyone who has invested any significant portion of time or energy into the gaming community. A brief visit to any of the general discussion forums of the major online discussion boards of the 40k community (Dakka, Warseer, Bolter & Chainsword, BoLS) will usually yield at least one active thread directly related to the topic. The scripted arguments unfold predictably and the breadth of participants gradually narrows as snarky posters get bored and reasonable voices are shouted down, leaving a scant handful of internet personalities slinging insults and vying for who gets to be king for a day. Moderators inevitably lock the thread, rinse, and repeat.

Face to face discussions of the topic play out differently but are often equally worthless. Even within our small communities there exist factions that are easily discernable by veterans and anyone with a keen eye for social dynamics. Let’s face it, 40k is nerdy hobby and our circles tend to over-represent individuals who shy away from confrontation. Applied as a general rule, it should be no surprise that conversations on emotionally charged subjects, such as this, take place only in contexts where offense is least likely to be perceived. As a result, these conversations occur between like-minded individuals within the group, thus avoiding dissenting opinions and any worthwhile discussion. In the end it’s just a bunch of whiny twats complaining and patting each other on the back for preaching to the choir.

That last statement might seem at odds with my first. If there exists a real ideological split in the 40k community then how can I claim the dichotomy is false? It is important here to make a distinction between a true, fundamental dichotomy and the manifestations of a perceived dichotomy. Regardless of truth, a perceived mutual exclusivity between having fun and playing competitively always results itself in subpopulations of gamers who identify more with one side over the other. Subtle differences in opinion are enhanced through repeated confrontation with one another ultimately causing a clear stratification. Call them sides or camps or whatever label suits your group best.

In truth, this dichotomy is imaginary. For something to be dichotomous its partitions must be both mutually exclusive and mutually exhaustive. In other words, one must be interested in competition or fun, but not both. The absurdity of this statement is obvious to some, but many others cannot shake off their perceived polarization of the hobby and wage endless wars of words over the subject. Just like in politics, arguments tend to intensify through repetition and participants push further to the fringes of extremism.

Players on one side of the debate accuse the others of playing to “win at all costs”, a phrase slung so often that it has its own instantly recognizable shorthand (WAAC). These gamers frequently assume the moral high-ground and inform everyone how they rarely attend tournaments, despite being vocal advocates of soft scores, and that when they do it’s purely for “fun” (as distinct from winning). They’re often spotted on the sidelines of rules discussions, occasionally chiming in with their loud sighs and laments, and sometimes participating briefly to remind everyone what [their take on] the spirit of the game is.

The other side of the aisle is no picnic either. There’s no shortage of self-described “competitive gamers” who go to extraordinary lengths to win, including conveniently forgetting inconvenient rules, fudging movement, and even (more blatant) outright cheating. Some of the more extreme subscribers to the WAAC mentality will concoct absurd rationalizations for their behavior, and rare indeed is the exemplar who will admit to his own misaligned principles.

The false dichotomy fails to recognize that we all play games to have fun because being fun is a necessary condition for something to be defined as a game. Mortimer Adler, celebrated philosopher of the Aristotelian tradition, defines play as a leisure activity which is partaken of for its own sake, partaken of because the activity itself holds intrinsic value. This differs from activities which are a means to an end; leisure activities, and, by extension, games are ends in and of themselves. Rather than waxing philosophically, I will assume the laymen definition of fun: enjoyment derived from activity.

While a given game is not necessarily fun for all people, any given game is necessarily fun for some people. There are those who claim that WAAC gamers are amongst those for whom Warhammer 40k is not fun; however, this begs the question of why they choose this particular game amongst the nearly infinite myriad of others to exercise their Napoleon complex. The likely answer is that the game itself is fun for them, and the likely rebuttal is that these individuals only experience fun when winning. Perhaps the “for fun” camp has it right; most of us know “that guy” (distinct from, but not mutually exclusive with “that fucking guy”), the one who gets high off crushing newbies and storms off angrily after every defeat. There is but one problem with this argument…

Win-At-All-Costs gamers aren’t remotely interested in competition and therefore they are not competitive gamers.

(Continue reading: Part II – The Competitive Gamer)

The next post is the first installment of what started out as a simple rant but gradually morphed into what amounts to a series of essays on both Warhammer and competitive gaming in general. The full text is far too long for a single article, so I’ve decided to split it into several parts and milk it for all it’s worth. Feel free to read them at your leisure. Hopefully they’ll spark some interesting comments, though don’t be put off if I decline to chime in on some points because they may be addressed at length later on.

And now, on to the show…

Why did I choose IG? Obviously it’s not for the models. The old school WW1 army men theme is fun, but not particularly interesting. Mostly it has to do with fielding lots of tanks and artillery. But that’s not the only reason.

When the IG book was released there was lots of rabble about how overpowered the army is, which is typical for any codex release, and then there were the contrarians who point out that everyone overestimates the potential of new armies which inevitably end up being balanced. I usually find myself arguing in defense of the latter, however I firmly believe that the IG codex is hard. Not just hard, not even just rock hard, but fucking titanium hard. This is one army that I don’t think is going to sink to the level of mediocrity. And it takes the mech metagame to a whole new level by scaling twice as well as any other army thanks to the copious vehicle squadron options.

My first attempt at the army was as follows:

HQ
175 – Company Command Squad (Astropath, meltagun x4, Chimera w/ HF)

TROOPS
155 – 10 Veterans (meltagun x3, Chimera w/ HF)
155 – 10 Veterans (meltagun x3, Chimera w/ HF)
135 – 10 Veterans (grenade launcher x2, Chimera w/ HF)
70 – 5 Inquisitorial Storm Troopers (meltagun x2)
70 – 5 Inquisitorial Storm Troopers (meltagun x2)

FAST ATTACK
130 – Vendetta Gunship
130 – Vendetta Gunship
130 – Vendetta Gunship

HEAVY SUPPORT
160 – Manticore
140 – Colossus
300 – 2 Leman Russ Battle Tanks

Total: 1750

From the very start I knew that the core of my army would be Veterans in Chimeras. The first draft had 4 units, but I nixed one in favor of IST after stealing borrowing the idea from Edwin’s list posted on Yes the Truth Hurts. The potential to use the Vendetta 24″ scout move to get an alpha strike against Land Raiders with IST meltaguns is just too good to pass up. Also, the obvious alternative was to use Hellhounds/Devil Dogs, however this would result in an army far too similar to my LS-heavy Vulkan marines and for the sake of diversity I chose to pass.

Unfortunately, my experience with IG so far has not conformed to my expectations. However, in my defense, I’ve only been able to get a scant handful of games in since assembling the list a month and a half ago. I have no qualms about retreating from a position in the face of contrary evidence and reasoning, but it’s not time to throw in the towel just yet. I’ve confidently been able to attribute each and every poor outcome to either mistakes in strategy or list building, both of which are correctable.

A brief run-down of my games thus far:

Game 1: IG versus Kris’s Salamanders

I expected this one to be a fairly even match because Kris is a very savvy player and he has an optimized list which can hold its own against IG, but it turned out that I was my own worst enemy. We randomly decided on Capture and Control with Spearhead deployment.

I won the initial roll-off and, given that it was an objective mission, opted to take second turn out of habit. This was a mistake that was subsequently compounded by electing to deploy my entire army on the board, rather than hold in reserve and take advantage of my Astropath.

The game opened with Kris using his pair of dakka predators to go 4/4 with penetrating hits from their autocannons on my Valkyries, crippling my return firepower. We managed to pummel each other until I was left with a just couple of IST’s to contest my own objective. Fortunately, I had also killed most of Kris’s Troops, so I barely managed to eek out a draw.

Lesson learned: Take first turn.

Game 2: IG versus Charlie’s Nob Bikers

Charlie’s Ork army has traditionally given my Salamanders a lot of trouble because of my reliance of Drop Pods, however I was able to turn the metatable on him this time around with my mech IG list. As predicted, my army completely stomped his Orks even with the unfavorable Dawn of War deployment.

The game was more or less over before it began. Charlie deployed his two Nob units and a Warboss while I held everything off the board, and he used his first turn to turbo-boost toward my board edge in order to limit the amount of shooting I’d be able to do before facing multi-charges. I brought in everything on the first turn and repeatedly tank shocked one Nob unit with Chimeras until it finally failed its Ld test. The other unit was subjected to two battlecannons, a Manticore, 9 twin-linked lascannons, and 10 meltaguns.

With Charlie’s core completely dismantled on the first turn, he threw in the towel.

Lesson learned: Mech IG > Orks.

Game 3: IG versus Bob’s Ultramarines

This match taught me more about the dynamics of my army’s tactics as opposed to general strategy (despite some truly abysmal rolling). For reference, it was an Annihilation mission with Pitched Battle deployment.

Bob’s army is led by Cassius and relies heavily on Tactical Squads in Rhinos (and one in a Drop Pod). It also features a melta Dread in a second Drop Pod and some bikes. I think Bob reads this so perhaps he can chime in with the exact list.

In any event, I again relied on habits developed by years of playing Space Marines and was overly aggressive with my infantry. Instead of listening to my own advice and staying put in my transports I got out on several occasions to maximize firepower and extend my melta range. In each and every case this turned out to be a mistake, and Bob was smart to charge even lone tactical marines into full units of Veterans, each time winning, breaking, and killing my units in the sweeping advance. Without any counter-attack option, I was at his mercy. I ended up losing by about three points.

Lesson learned: Stay in the damn tanks.

Also: Not having counter-attack is bad.

Following my match with Bob I decided to alter my list, albeit slightly.

The decision was made to trade my Astropath for a Master of the Fleet since I generally want to be taking first turn. If I will the roll-off I’ll go first, and my opponents will likely give me the first turn in objective-based missions if they win. I imagine many enemies will attempt to mitigate the damage received by my opening volley by holding their units in reserve, the act of which is severely punished by my MotF.

By applying a -1 modifier to reserve rolls, the Master increases the likelihood of enemy reserves arriving piecemeal, which I should have no problem dealing with in most situations (see a forthcoming battle report against James’s Crimson Fists for an example). While I think the Astropath is excellent (in larger games I would take both), the MotF fits my build better.

Game 4: IG versus Matt’s Chaos (dual lash)

Full battle report in the works. Stay tuned.

Game 5: IG versus Fareed’s Space Marines (Crimson Fists)

Fareed plays a a Drop Pod army that wasn’t really optimized for tournament play until more recently. There are still some tweaks to be made, but this list was much stronger than its previous incarnation. It features Kantor leading 2 full  Sternguard units loaded with meltas and combi-meltas, 3 Tactical Squads, and an Ironclad in pods. For some mobile firepower it also includes 3 Attack Bikes with (MM x2, HB x1).

The mission was Seize Ground with Pitched Battle deployment. I won the roll-off and gave Fareed first turn while keeping my army in reserve in order to avoid losing half of my vehicles to meltaguns on the first turn (both Sternguard units were to be separated into combat squads). My reserve rolls without the Astropath were poor, however I’m not sure it was a bad strategy. 12 point-blank meltaguns would have been bad news on turn 1.

I managed to kill almost all of Fareed’s army, however he managed to hide a tac squad behind a large terrain feature and squat on an objective. I managed to secure my own, and a third was contested by a handful of surviving marines and my Imperial Storm Troopers who had just been shot out of their airplane. Result: Tie game.

I made some mistakes, but in general I was forced to play cautiously because my lack of any assault troops to mop up units and intimidate basic infantry from throwing grenades at my tanks and charging headlong into my puny guys.

Lesson learned: Even Imperial Guard needs assault units.

Next up: battle report for my game against Matt’s dual lash Chaos army, giving my IG some close combat punchiness, and laying the smackdown on James and his Crimson Fists.

Once things settle down I should have some interesting commentaries and battle reports to feature, including the unveiling of my mech IG army. Stay tuned.