Back To The Battle Report - White Dwarf 117

​Let us travel back to the year 1989, an era where White Dwarf was firmly anchoring itself into the glorious, chart-heavy landscape of Warhammer Fantasy Battle 3rd Edition. The charts of course were not has heavy as the minis, which had more lead than the average grapeshot and were twice as deadly to small children.

​Here, long before the era of polished, multi-camera video reports, digital battle maps, or hyper-optimized meta lists, history was being written at Games Day ’89. This wasn't a sterile tournament hall.

This was the Derby Assembly Rooms playing host to the first-round play-offs of the Osprey World Warhammer Fantasy Battle Championships. Over 30 battles took place, but Peter Morrison’s coverage focuses on one immaculate, chaotic slice of history: Paul Groves' High Elves versus Andrew Reid's Skaven Hordes*.

​The report reads less like a modern tournament breakdown and more like a dispatch from a battlefield where tactical genius and utter dice-rolling absurdity collided in a room filled with early-90s haircuts and pure adrenaline.

​The narrative details a fascinating meta constraint. Flying beasts, such as the terrifying High Elf War Dragons were strictly banned from the tournament list. This single rule forced both generals into old-school, massive infantry and cavalry deployments. Groves opted for a beautifully clean, disciplined High Elf array built around a core of peerless archery and elegant Wardancers.

​Reid, on the other hand, faced a desperate Skaven reality: his native rodent list had zero missile troops worth mentioning. To survive the Elven arrow storm, he leaned heavily on the wild, permissive ally rules of 3rd Edition, drafting in Chaos Goblins and a squad of Chaos Warriors to act as meat shields and heavy muscle.

​Kicking off with a spectacular Elven pincer movement, the early turns looked like a complete route. The High Elf Shore Riders and a Level 15 High Elf Fey lashing out with Fireballs immediately obliterated the Skaven left flank. Chaos Goblins and Skavenslaves failed their rout tests and scampered away into the sunset. Possibly to live long and lovely lives. Or be picked off by Outriders. Either/Or

​But this is 3rd Edition, where early success is often a trap wrapped in an illusion. The cheap Skavenslaves had cost the Ratmen a measly 50 points a block. While the Elves were busy celebrating their slaughter of useless chaff, the actual teeth of the Skaven army—the Stormvermin, Clanrats, and devastating Warpfire Thrower teams—were silently closing the gap, entirely unbothered by the loss of their expendable allies.

​By the mid-game, the match devolved into a brutal, grinding psychological experiment. The elite Elven Wardancers charged into a block of Clanrats, expecting a beautiful display of acrobatic slaughter. Instead, they walked directly into a hidden Clan Eshin Assassin**, who popped out of the ranks to turn the dancers into mincemeat. To add insult to injury, those cowardly Goblins who fled the left flank in turn one suddenly rallied at the table edge, turning around to sandwich the Elves in a terrifying tactical vise.

​The final catastrophe came when the Elven archers successfully wiped out a blocking unit of Goblins in the center, inadvertently opening a perfect, clear line of sight. The Skaven didn’t hesitate. A blistering salvo from Warpfire Throwers and Jezzails tore through the Elven center, completely annihilating an entire unit in a single phase of blistering warp-smoke and fire.

​By the time the tournament's three-hour limit was reached, the High Elves clung to a razor-thin, minimal victory by a mere 100 points***. The Wardancers were trapped in a desperate "Custer's Last Stand" at the rear, the Skaven Stormvermin were squealing with triumph, and the Lord of Decay was watching the field with a growing sense of elation.

​Populated by hand-drawn tactical maps and classic, ink-heavy illustrations of snarling ratmen, this retro time capsule perfectly captures the chaotic soul of 3rd Ed, where a perfectly laid plan could be utterly dismantled by a ticking clock and a couple of rats hiding in a bush.

​* "Immaculate, immaculate bands of High Elves" vs "the skulking Skaven Hordes." The 1980s White Dwarf writer's bias was beautiful in its lack of subtlety.

​** The hidden Assassin mechanic remains one of the greatest relationship-testing rules in miniature gaming history.

​*** This is the exact historical equivalent of being saved by the bell while slumped against the ropes clutching your tape measure like a security blanket.