Last time saw the return of our map campaign. This week Round 9 occurred with much fanfare, as this was the round in which the athanc wagon finally arrived!

Of course, if past experience had taught our commanders anything, it was that nothing is as simple as it first appears when you have a nefarious GM pulling the strings.

Such was the case with the athanc wagon: though it had indeed arrived, exactly where it had made its entrance was unknown. Several locations were marked on the map as possible positions, but only by moving a banner into a tile containing a wagon marker could a commander confirm whether that location contained the genuine article. Each round, these markers would continue to move across the map, as the Cygnaran forces controlling the wagon sought to bring it to the safety of Fort Faulk.

Our commanders weren’t the only ones trying to sniff out the wagon’s location. Both the Legion of Everblight and the dragons themselves were also on the hunt to be the first to claim the prize. As such, Round 9’s special rules saw players who moved their banners into or near a wagon marker risk being attacked by these unpredictable, dangerous foes.

With little time to spare, the majority of players rushed their banners toward any wagon marker they could reach, regardless of the potential dangers both from the shadows around them and from the skies above.

Despite the urgency caused by the arrival of the ultimate prize, however, a few of the players pushed forward with their own agendas, using the sudden scramble to their advantage.

Sensing a chance to remove the threat of the Convergence within his domain, Lyle moved his Circle forces to attack the fledgling Convergence base. Meanwhile, Plummer kept his forces on the edge of the map, away from the bulk of the fighting, clearly waiting for his enemies to weaken themselves before committing his forces to an all-out attack.

Below is the email I sent out to our players as they prepared for the round.

Reports and rumors pour in, their words sending every commander and camp into a frenzy. The athanc wagon has arrived!

Though its exact location remains unknown, each commander is struck by the gravity of the situation. For many, the timing of their ultimate prize’s arrival could not be worse. Enemies stand at the very gates, fixated on the elimination of their rivals. Even those once counted as friends and allies have cast off the mantle of cooperation and now confront their former battle brothers as bitter enemies.

From underground, Cryxian horrors burst forth from lands once thought safe while the blackclads seek to use the unfolding chaos to settle old scores with the followers of Cyriss. The forces of Ios stalk the fringes, their blades thirsting for the moment to strike. Even the bloodied forces of Khador refuse to yield, despite their perilous situation. Their kommandant musters every last resource he has, determined to forge hope from hopelessness. He knows, as the proud heritage flowing in his Khardic blood reassures him, that in these last days of war, when the skies are blotted out by the wings of dragons and the shadows are filled with the stalking blight of the Legion, only one truth still exists: victory at any cost.

’Til Next Time!