This is part 5 of a battle report spanning multiple posts. You can read the previous turn here, or you can go to the main report page here.
Dwarf Turn 5
|Dwarf Turn 5|
With most of his remaining warriors locked in bitter combat, Dungrim's axe arm was itching from a lack of use. He practically danced atop his shield in agitation, which did little to improve the mood of his bearers. Then he spotted his opportunity as the Savage Orc boar riders turned their formation to face the Iron Guard. With barely concealed desperation, he hissed to his shieldbearers, “There! Now is our chance, and they are so close even you two can make it!” For once the Lord and his shieldbearers were in agreement, and they staggered toward the combat with a jubilant roar (and a couple of half-hearted wheezes coming from somewhere underneath).
|Even as the Trolls appeared in their flank, Peg Leg's Quarrellers spotted an opportunity elsewhere.|
Dungrim was not alone in seeing an opening. Peg Leg's Quarrellers had been ravaged by the Mangler Squig and were even now being eyed off by a group of hungry-looking Trolls (though admittedly, Trolls were always hungry). The shift in da Crimson Tide's formation that had so excited Dungrim also provided Peg Leg and his command with the escape they needed. “Come on, lads. Let's not wait for the battle to come to us!” he shouted, and began stumping his way hurriedly toward the combat with his Quarrellers in tow, all of them keeping one eye on the ground in case there were any more rabbit holes (all except old Peg Leg. He only had one eye to work with, and it was fixed upon the Orcs).
|Half the Dwarf army (such as it is now) engages the Savage Orcs of da Crimson Tide|
Arri's Hairy Men made another attempt to chase down the fleeing Savage Orcs in front of them, however the Orcs showed them a clean pair of heels as they rushed down the other side of the hill. The Dwarfs cursed in frustration and slowed to a stop, looking down at their elusive quarry.
|Da Red Faces continue their retreat as Arri leads his Hairy Men in a failed charge after them.|
After their earlier successes, the Dwarf artillery returned to disappointing form, with the Grudge Thrower missing the enemy Rock Lobber by miles, and the Organ Gun firing off an impressive volley only for one of the Trolls to take a single minor flesh-wound.
If Little Foot thought his Orcs might have the duel with the Iron Guard under control, he knew he was in trouble when half of the remaining Dwarfs in the enemy army arrived to support them. To further his frustration, he felt his grasp on the Fists of Gork slip away as the Dwarfs dispelled its power once more. How was he going to smash all the stunties into a pulp now? Roaring curses at nobody in particular, he brandished his enchanted blades in both hands and set about cutting down his enemies the old-fashioned way.
With their lives on the line, the Savage Orcs fought with unexpected ferocity. Umrik Ironbender fell as a crude spear found its way through his armour and buried itself in his neck. Beside him fell two of the remaining Iron Guard, their heavy gromril armour proving surprisingly inadequate against the enemy's stone-tipped weapons. Gorgor leaned down and beheaded another, whilst the Orc next to him spitted one of the charging Quarrellers with his spear before the Dwarf could bring his cumbersome great weapon to bear.
Brave as this display was, it could not match the sheer power of the charging Dwarf great weapons, not the bitter ancestral hatred that drove their strikes. Every last one of the Savage Orcs of da Crimson Tide fell to the terrible assault, and suddenly Gorgor and Little Foot stood alone. If this bothered them in the slightest they gave no indication, laying about themselves in a fury. Dungrim fairly shrieked in frustration when he found himself once more without any foes within reach – the Orc Shaman was too far along the line.
|Dungrim the Lonely is left all alone once more, with nobody to lead and nobody to fight.|
Orc and Goblin Turn 5
|Orc and Goblin Turn 5|
With Little Foot and Gorgor somehow still in the fight, the Trolls on the hill nearby finally had a chance to contribute to the battle once more. Or at least they would have, had they not taken a sudden interest in a passing butterfly and staggered after it in slack-jawed wonderment.
The other Trolls continued their stumbling retreat toward the forest at the edge of the field, however Little Foot had other ideas and using the power of the Hand of Gork once more, picked them up and deposited them back near the centre of the battlefield, though what he expected them to do once they were there was not entirely clear.
|Hand of Gork deposits some fleeing Trolls in the middle of the table.|
Da Red Faces decided that they had made good their getaway and rallied their lines, looking up at the Dwarf Warriors still standing on the hill and watching them with obvious intent. The Savage Orcs also kept an eye on Snorri, who had been looking for an opportunity to attack their flank if they had been generous enough to offer it.
|Da Red Faces regain their composure near the edge of the battlefield, and turn to face their potential assailants|
Seeing that the Dwarf Lord was once again standing on his own, the Goblins aimed their Rock Lobber carefully and let fly. The huge, knobbly, extremely un-aerodynamic stone sailed through the air and crashed squarely into Dungrim's armoured back with an enormous crash, filling the air with dust, curses and flailing Dwarfs. His rune-covered gromril armour had buckled under the impact, some of his ribs sent searing shrieks of agony through his body and he could feel blood leaking from his breastplate, however he slowly staggered to his feet and remarkably found his bedraggled shieldbearers doing the same. The shield they had been carrying over their heads had protected them from the worst of the damage, though the shield itself was utterly ruined. Dungrim shook his head slowly as he struggled to come to grips with the enormity of his situation. He would actually have to walk the rest of the way. In spite of everything however, one of the shieldbearers took the mangled piece of metal under his arm whilst they both hefted their weapons and looked to their Lord for his next command. In spite of himself, Dungrim found himself nodding to each of them in respect. They might not be built for shield-bearing, but they were brave warriors nonetheless.
Little Foot cursed once more as the fallen Dwarf Lord regained his feet, but he had no time to try to rectify the situation. Instead he hastily summoned his powers and blasted at the Dwarf standard bearer with the Gaze of Mork, however it glanced harmlessly off his polished armour and he looked as though he hadn't even noticed it happening. In fact Thori Sidesplitter was entirely focused on what he was about to do to the foul Orc Shaman with his great axe when Gorgor intervened, bellowing a challenge and shouldering his way through the melee to confront the Dwarf Thane. Thori wasted no time and threw himself at his adversary, however a quick exchange of blows from both parties made it clear that they were quite evenly matched. For his part, Little Foot spent too much of his attention watching the duel and not enough on defending himself. He was reminded of his error when an axe blow took a chunk out of his side and another buried itself in his leg. He roared in pain and lashed out in return, but the Iron Guard jumped back quickly and he couldn't land a blow.
You can read the final part of the report here.