Part The Second:
Wherein Snori and his fellows overcome a variety of obstacles to ascend to the top of the Challenge Board, and help defend the Empire in their spare time

Fifth Battle: Deeds Of Valor

[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. Store owner Chris Walsh’s army of High Elves, ranked one tier below the GRINDING GRUMBLERS, challenged me. We agreed on 1000-point armies. The army I built was much like the others, but I substituted a unit of Crossbowmen for the Thunderers (for their superior range) and was able to add the following: a boulder-lobbing Catapult, a flying Gyrocopter, and the unit of Miners seen once before against the elves.]

Log entry:

“Once again we were alerted to the incursion of a throng of High Elves into our territory. We built up our forces accordingly and marched out to meet them. Sighting them up ahead deployed in and around some woods and cliffs, we formed up around a small hill with our crossbowmen on top, Ironbreakers and one bolt thrower to the left, and Warriors and the bulk of the artillery to the right. The Gyrocopter waited behind the hill ready to fly into action.

The elves opened hostilities (of course, the miscreants!), greeting us dwarves by firing a hail of arrows and – even worse – bolts from their two rapid-fire bolt throwers. Missiles crashed down heavily around our catapult, doing it severe damage, and killed some crossbowmen as well. A large regiment of elite Elven Swordmasters advanced rapidly toward our left flank, and a unit of heavy cavalry moved up through the woods towards our warriors on the right. Our catapult crew showed real poise by not only standing up to all the incoming fire, but accurately guessing the range to the oncoming Swordmasters and dropping a boulder right in the middle of their front ranks. 5 pointy-headed elves perished in that one shot! Our other shooters accomplished little, however, and the elves’ next volley wiped out to a man the brave crew of the catapult and caused serious casualties among our crossbowmen – so serious, in fact, that the crossbowmen lost heart and fled off the hilltop. Worse yet, the Gyrocopter pilot waiting behind the hill, seeing nothing but dead crossbowmen rolling down nearly on top of him and then the whole detachment running off in a panic, panicked himself and flew his machine right off the battlefield! Shameful to see, it was.

But the rest of us were made of sterner stuff and did not give up hope so easily. As his Swordmasters approached on the left and his cavalry moved towards the center (contemplating a joint attack on our units to the left), our two bolt thrower crews saw an opportunity to take out the opposing field commander. This fellow, mounted on a giant flying eagle of all things, had flown up onto a cliff above the battlefield and had been raining down on us extremely accurate arrow fire. It took a few attempts, but ultimately our bolt-thrower crews’ aim proved true, and one team managed to plunge a missile the size of a small tree right into the elven hero’s chest. No squirming out of that one for him! Also helping to raise our spirits was the timely appearance of our doughty Miners, who had traveled underground through secret tunnels and managed to surface not far behind his unit of bowmen, who had been giving supporting fire to the Swordmasters on the left. The bowmen moved forward to avoid the Miners, remaining in sufficiently good order to keep firing on our other troops for a time. But our Miners were in a full sprint after them and looked certain to catch them soon.

Meanwhile the crux of the battle had arrived around the small hill where most of the dwarves had deployed. Both his Swordmasters and cavalry charged toward our bolt thrower on the left, hoping to overrun it and then sweep into our Ironbreakers with overwhelming force. However, they misjudged the distance and ran out of steam before reaching our lines. The Ironbreakers, with our fearless leader Buford Bugman in the fore, charged at once and smashed into the flank of the vaunted Swordmasters. A fierce battle ensued, during which the magnificent Buford slew one elf champion in a duel and then called out the opposing commander. Showing the calculating cowardice of his kind, the elf leader ran straight to the back of the formation to avoiding the steely-eyed Buford (who must have looked frightful, all lathered up for a fight and bloody from a wound sustained against the elf champion. Observers told me that so caught up in the moment was Buford that he even put down the great mug of beer he always keeps in his left hand! Imagine that! He must have been worried he’d spill it…).

As this infantry fight raged, the elvish cavalry succeeded in charging our bolt gunner positioned just to the right. Here the most remarkable feat of courage of the entire battle happened, a deed that will surely be recalled in song among our people for years to come. Faced with this fearsome cavalry charge, our badly outnumbered and lightly armed crewmen drew their little handaxes, stood firm and did not budge an inch. They withstood the fury of the charge without taking a loss, and indeed killed one of the elf knights! This gave our weary crossbowmen (who had rallied from their earlier flight down the hill) the chance to reform their depleted ranks and charge the knights’ flank. Still outnumbered and overmatched, the bolt thrower crew held out a while longer (thus keeping the attention of the cavalry off both the Ironbreakers and the crossbowman) before prudently withdrawing. Well, OK, they fled at top speed, but we all cheered them anyway and thanked our stars that they had saved their valuable selves to fight for us another day!

Still the battle hung in the balance, with two separate melees by the hill and our Miners running to catch those bowmen not too far off. What tipped the action in our favor was the steely resolve and sharp blows of Buford Bugman and the Ironbreakers, who wore down the ill-captained and catapult-weakened Swordmasters. These elves finally cracked under the strain and fled rapidly away. They would probably have escaped free and clear … had they not been heading back directly towards their own bowman. For precisely at this time our Miners, ignoring the desperate arrow-volleys of the elves, charged into their ranks hewing and chopping with their great gleaming picks. The bowmen took heavy losses and turned tail to run – and crashed smack into the fleeing Swordmasters! Chaos ensued, and as our Miners waded forward, grimly dispatching any elf they met, both enemy units completely disintegrated.

Thus the battle was won, and the few remaining elves knew it. When the cavalrymen finally dispersed what was left of our crossbowmen they rode away at top speed, horse tails between horse legs.

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: If we’ve calculated the points right, a “Massacre” (or possibly a “Solid Victory”) won by the dwarves – which is a bit surprising given how close the battle was for most of it. But the annihilation of the Swordmasters, bowmen, and both of his expensive leaders added up to huge points for me, and I was left in control of the battlefield. His challenge thus successfully turned away, the Grumblers look forward to being able to challenge now for the top spot on the store’s rankings!]

[Tactical lessons: Many. This was the largest, most entertaining and hardest fought battle I’ve had yet, with many ups and downs. There was some weird luck for good and ill on both sides, but that’s not unusual in Warhammer, and it probably evened out in the end (or perhaps favored me a little bit?. …hard to say). For the future: Don’t station a Gyrocopter near a crowd of units under fire where it can be panicked and disappear off the board with one bad roll. Know that my catapult will draw fire like nothing else — as it should, because it can absolutely devastate enemy formations! Be quicker to move my infantry units close to the action: my 16 dwarf warriors contributed ZERO all game long because they were too slow to move away from the quiet right flank. (I must admit that his cavalry did a good job of freezing me in place with his deployment and moves). Taking a tip from what happened to him, don’t pass up a fairly good charge which you know you can make in favor of a more enticing move that you’re not sure you have the range for: that double failed charge of his (plus the subsequent unlikely heroism of my crew in delaying his knights) set up my win in the big infantry clash and thus probably the game.]

Sixth Battle: Facing the Horde
[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. The GRINDING GRUMBLERS challenged Steve Femia and his Dark Prince’s Pets (a Beasts of Slaanesh army) for the top spot on the challenge board – all the marbles! We agreed on 1500-point armies. The army I built consisted of: 20 Warriors with attached Runesmith hero and full command, 16 Ironbreakers with attached Thane (Buford) and full command, 10 Thunderers, 10 Crossbowmen, 10 Miners, 1 cannon, 1 stone-throwing catapult, 1 Gyrocopter, and assorted dwarven Runes to strengthen them magically.]

Snori’s log entry:
“We dwarves of Robinson’s Rock got word of an infestation of Chaos Beasts in a region not far from our home territory. Some elders counseled caution, thinking this rumor could be a trap meant to draw us away from our mountain realm, but our fearless leader Buford Bugman insisted on investigating. ‘Chaos will be the ruin of this world and must be stamped out!’ decreed Buford, so off we marched (not without a wee bit of nervous grumbling in the ranks, it must be said).

Approaching the befouled land across a flat plain we saw dust clouds ahead and pulled up near a hill. Buford sent the crossbowmen and Thunderers on top of this hill – from there they could see a large host of strange and terrible beasts approaching. Directly opposite the hill were a small group of winged demon-like creatures. Farther away to our left was arrayed the mass of the enemy: four fearsome Minotaurs, four armored chariots pulled by giant boars, a tightly ranked throng of goat-headed creatures called Gors, three small packs of slavering war-dogs, a group of centaur-like beast cavalry, and to top it off two large multi-armed chaos fiends the mere sight of which was enough to curdle your blood! Buford set up a defensive line to the left of the hill, alternating artillery with stalwart infantry units to guard them. Way off to the left our Gyrocopter hovered opposite most of the enemy dogs and centaur-creatures, and the Miners delved into some caves at the base of the hill looking for tunnels.

We barely had time to form our lines before the beasts hurled themselves forward at a frightening speed. We fired away as best we could. Our Thunderers managed to kill four of five war hounds in one pack and sent the survivor bounding away; even better, our cannon shattered one of the huge chariots with a well-placed shot. Unfortunately, our catapult chose that moment to malfunction and failed to fire at all, and our crossbowmen only succeeding in taking out one of 6 winged demonlings. Our Gyrocopter pilot (who had acted so disgracefully in our last battle) was eager to redeem himself and boldly flew over the heart of the enemy’s flanking forces, causing much distraction before unleashing a hail of steam-cannon fire into the throng of goat-heads. His aim was poor, however, as only one of the foul troopers fell, while the rest made rude gestures at him. This continued for some time, in fact, as the pilot kept maneuvering provocatively, drawing fire and delaying the enemy’s advance on the far left, but he had trouble doing any meaningful damage with his normally deadly rapid-fire weapon.

Back within our main lines the mood was souring: despite the damaging fire we had dealt out, the opposing horde seemed utterly unperturbed and kept coming. Our aged Runesmith explained that most of the creatures had been marked by the sign of their foul god Slaanesh, rendering them mindlessly immune to the panic that typically comes upon soldiers who witness their comrades falling around them. Thusly fortified, the enemy approached inexorably and had almost reached our lines when suddenly there appeared right behind us an ambushing swarm of goat-headed Gors, as if out of nowhere! All could see now that our artillery – target #1 of the Beasts – was doomed, but the brave crews took their final shots, and our cannon and catapult each succeeded in destroying an onrushing chariot juggernaut, leaving only one from the original four. The catapult crew then succumbed to the swarm of flying demonlings, while the newly arrived horde of goat-heads overwhelmed from behind the dwarves manning the cannon.

At this point our only hope for victory – nay, survival! – lay with our two large infantry formations, the Warriors and the Ironbreakers. They would be supported by the Miners, who chose this moment to emerge from their tunnels near the hill and marched double-time toward the goat-headed Gors who had overrun our cannon. They succeeded in drawing the Gors’ attention and then their charge. A fierce melee ensued which would continue inconclusively for some time, but the Miners thereby kept the enemy off our Warriors’ and Ironbreakers’ flanks and refused to buckle under the attacks of the multitudinous enemy.

Before the battle our Runesmith had painted a magic Rune of Courage on our Ironbreakers banner to inspire them. It certainly worked, for when those two fearsome multi-limbed chaos-spawn drew near them the dwarves not only didn’t run in terror, but charged straight into the fiends, hacking and chopping! The fight lasted for some time, but when it was over both foul beasts lay dead, and only 2 of 16 Ironbreakers lay with them. So confident was Buford during this melee that he calmly stood there drinking his beer the whole time, never once having to raise his axe. (He did burp loudly at the chaos fiends once or twice, earning the cheers of his comrades.)

Meanwhile the regiment of four massive Minotaurs came crashing into the ranks of our Warriors. They inflicted a great deal of damage – three dwarves perished almost immediately, and the monsters had hardly been wounded at all in return – and yet the dwarves’ discipline and formation held firm, and before long it was the outnumbered Minotaurs who lost heart and began to back away from the fight. As they retreated the relentless Warriors kept after them, and soon the retreat became a rout and the rout a slaughter. When all the once-frightening monsters were slain, the Warriors pushed forward at a run and managed to set to flight the last remaining chariot of the Beasts.

Suddenly the Warriors were blind-sided by the host of goat-headed Gors from the left flank of the battlefield. The Gyrocopter, which was doing an admirable job of killing or occupying the centaur-cavalry and remaining dog-packs, had only temporarily delayed this Gor beast-herd. Now the regiment, led by the enemy general himself, crashed into the flank of the Warriors with such force that some dwarves were immediately killed and the rest took flight, despite the fact that our aged Runesmith had managed to call out and kill the enemy’s champion in a duel. Moving at top speed the dwarves successfully escaped from the disadvantageous engagement and rallied themselves. When the Gors charged again, the Warriors were ready for them. Not only did the line hold this time, but the Warriors got the best of the fighting, and the Gors lost their nerve. Again showing surprising speed, the stubby dwarves chased down the fleeing Gors and wiped them out to a Beast.

The battle was now effectively over, and the dwarves had triumphed yet again. The remaining beasts slunk off, leaving the field and indeed the whole territory open for the dwarves to cleanse of the stink of Chaos.

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: A “Massacre” for the dwarves. Much like the last battle, the battle was in doubt until near the end. In fact, around turn 2 or 3 the dwarves’ chances seemed very slim indeed. But naturally resilient infantry and good luck with flight/pursuit rolls led to the slaughter of large units of the enemy in turns 4 through 6, securing the victory. And so the GRINDING GRUMBLERS, undefeated in 6 battles, ascend to the top rung of the challenge ladder! #1, baby! They will eagerly await challenges from ambitious armies beneath them.]

[Tactical lessons: A few. I may wish in future to put artillery on hills and Thunderers/ crossbowmen on the ground to better safeguard the big guns and enable the regiments of shooters to join in hand-to-hand combats. However, without the hill the Thunderers/crossbowmen will have to sacrifice a rank or deploy in a clumsy long line, so I’m not sure how much that will help. The Gyrocopter is indeed a worthwhile unit, at least against foes without an extraordinary number of skirmishers or long-range shooters. Cannons are beautiful weapons against chariots. Remember to move my heroes around within their units to avoid the situation we had here where Buford never got to make a single attack despite plenty of fighting in his unit. Always try to mount flank or rear attacks on major enemy units you are engaged with, even if this means passing up some easy victory points somewhere else or risking weak units in close combat: this battle ultimately turned on a couple of big, close fights involving my Warriors, fights which quite possibly would have gone the other way if my guys had been subjected to additional flank/rear attacks.]

A Lull Between Battles

Snori’s log entry:
“No battling lately, which is a good thing. We dwarves are a tough lot and don’t shy away from a fight that needs to be fought — but, truth be told, we are happier being left in peace to do our work in the mines and smithies among our own folk.

But lack of battle didn’t mean lack of hubbub for Robinson’s Rock: there was rejoicing to be done after all! Six straight victories, culminating in a dizzying triumph over Chaos that has our army’s name on everyone’s lips throughout the land, is not something that happens every day. It needed to be celebrated: at least that’s how our fearless leader Buford Bugman saw it. So after returning from cleaning out that infestation of Beasts, our army joined the whole stronghold in triumphal marches, traditional dwarven festivities, and, of course, lots and lots of beer swilling. Amber ales, dark porters, spicy meads, creamy stouts, honey-gold lagers – you name it, we drank it! And sing we did, too, recalling the exploits of our fathers as always but also adding a few new tunes to mark the deeds of a more recent vintage. Like the Stand of the Bolt-Thrower Boys, or the March of the Ironbreakers. Stuff to stir a good dwarf’s soul, it was.

But Buford kept himself busy beyond just back-slappin’ and beer stein-poundin’; there was much planning to be done. For one thing, new recruits needed to be selected to replace fallen comrades in the ranks. Buford took a personal interest in this, and was very picky about whom he would let in. (One of his favorite sayings: ‘No one too tall! Give me a good stump of a dwarf with his feet firmly on the ground – I won’t have my warriors tipping over in a wind like some skinny elf!’) But beyond replacements, Buford and the Clan Elders decided that some new units might be in order. A regiment of elite Hammerers, for example, would be nice to call upon: they could accompany the General as his bodyguards and anchor the army at its heart, freeing up the Ironbreakers to be more aggressive and wide-ranging. An additional detachment of regular clan Warriors would come in very handy to protect our artillery or fill in for elite units on call elsewhere. A quiet word was had with a few distinguished commanders (both fighters and Runesmiths) to join Buford and our aging Rune master in the leadership talent pool.

Most important of all was the strategizing. What can we do to change the aspect of our army should circumstances require it? What if we have to attack, for example, and not just fight a defensive battle? Some suggested that we recruit a band of Slayers for the purpose. Utterly fearless, these dwarven berserkers can be counted upon to take the fight aggressively to the enemy every time. But Buford was against it, and his arguments carried the day: Slayers, while brave fighters, lack flexibility. They fight alone; they never use missile weapons; and their refusal to wear armor makes them vulnerable in ways dwarves should never be. (‘Besides,’ Buford would add, ‘most of those lads are just not right in the head.’) Instead it was decided to beef up certain existing units to prepare them for attacking roles, and to experiment with different deployments and orders of battle.

Lesson of the day: whatever the situation, dwarves must find a way to win.”

-Snori Whitebeard

Seventh Battle: Topsy Turvy
[Game situation: The first of three battles, not for the challenge board, but to be fought as part of an afternoon Storm of Chaos tournament held at The Whiz. Eight armies in two teams — one representing the marauding forces of Chaos and the other the defenders of the lawful world — each fought one-on-one 1000-point battles (three in succession against different foes) to see which faction won the day and incidentally also pick a winning player whose army performed the best. The GRINDING GRUMBLERS fought on the same “good guy” team as Empire humans, High Elves, and (surprisingly) a group of Vampire Counts. The attacking armies included Chaos, Beasts of Chaos, Orcs & Goblins, and a different set of Vampire Counts. The dwarf army I brought for all the battles consisted of 16 Warriors, 14 Ironbreakers with a Runesmith general among them, 12 Miners, 10 Thunderer gunmen, and for artillery one stone-thrower and two bolt-throwers. A few magic runes were added in as well.

The dwarves first squared off against Orcs and Goblins (played by new player Jake Fredette) in a 6-turn pitched battle… .]

Snori’s log entry:
“An urgent plea for help from our Imperial human allies arrived at Robinson’s Rock, shattering the celebratory atmosphere. It seems that the lords of Chaos had whipped forth a mixed horde of attackers into our region, and everyone of strong heart was being summoned to defend our lands. Buford, unfortunately, was away from the hold, so our old Runesmith, Orlaf, led out what forces we could spare to join in the effort. Soon after meeting the other gathered armies (there were humans, of course, but also a bunch of sneering high elves and even some Vampires – desperate times indeed!) we dwarves were dispatched to head off a large force of Greenskins ravaging their way across the countryside. We marched off to a convenient blocking position, arrayed most of our shooters on a large hill with the rest nearby, and waited.

As evening approached we began to hear the bellowing and sniff the foul stink of Trolls, and soon saw the ugly brutes and a wide range of greenskins coming straight at us. On the right, arrayed opposite our Dwarf Warriors and the hill, were the trolls – three of them – with an orc general spurring them on, and nearby a healthy unit of disciplined Black Orcs. On the left side of the battlefield two large masses of squabbling Night Goblins came forward, with a well-armored Boar-drawn chariot between them. In the middle on a small hill a goblin rock-lobber hove into view. Our artillery began firing right away. The catapult shots, targeting goblins, scattered wildly and accomplished nothing, nor did the left-side bolt thrower (deployed off the hill) hit any goblins; but aiming to the right the Thunderers and the other bolt thrower (both on the hill with the catapult) caused extensive damage to the Black Orc regiment. Give ‘em credit, those swarthy devils kept coming despite the unending fusillade. But before they could reach our lines the aptly named Thunderers had gunned then down to an orc. The nearby trolls didn’t have to worry about missile fire, though once or twice they paused for butt scratching and vacant stares, delaying their advance anyway, before the enemy leader could get the stupid creatures moving again. The battle on the right flank was thus slow to develop.

On the left, ugly events began to unfold. One reason our bolt-thrower was having trouble hitting anything was the near-constant shower of stones from near misses from the enemy rock-lobber. Some pieces wounded the crew, and further harm arrived in the form of occasional magic missiles zinging into their midst from a goblin shaman in one of the green masses (we dwarves are naturally resistant to other races’ “magic,” though the occasional nasty spell does sting us some). This harassment, combined with the continuing poor aim of our own stone-thrower, meant that the goblins approached untouched and the chariot came on even faster. Our brave Ironbreakers braced for the chariot’s charge, and when the trundling war-wagon struck they withstood the impact and fought back hard against the despicable foe, wounding the crew and sending the yoked boars into a squealing retreat.

Then doom struck as the Ironbreakers pursued the fleeing chariot: out from one of the goblin masses came three insanely whirling Goblin Fanatics, each swinging a massive steel ball larger than the goblin himself! All three crashed straight into our formation before we could react. Broken dwarf bodies flew everywhere as the heavy armor of the Ironbreakers and their resolute steadfastness only made them easier targets for the bone-crushing tornado of the fanatics’ weapons. Of 15 elite troopers only Runesmith Orlaf and the unit’s standard-bearer survived the horrific onslaught. Undismayed by the carnage, though well aware of the hopelessness of their situation, Orlaf and his man charged forward toward the fleeing chariot and the other mass of goblins (and away from the whirling menaces behind them, naturally), hoping to at least do some deeds worthy of song before perishing. But the hand of fate was cruel indeed, for as they advanced three more evil fanatics burst forth from the other goblin regiment, spinning right at them! The two unfortunate, courageous souls were cut down in seconds. A grudge against this clan of Night Goblins will be entered into the official records, a grudge that will only be avenged by the spilling of much goblin blood!

With the wiping out of Orlaf and the Ironbreakers (it tears my heart even to say such a thing!), the left side of the field was now in goblin hands. The only thing preventing them from sweeping forward and taking out the lonely bolt-thrower and crew left behind were the goblin fanatics themselves, continuing to whirl along in their deadly arcs such that the other greenskins dared not come forward too far.

Meanwhile on the right flank the hideous trolls had finally succeeded in advancing far enough to charge the Warriors standing unyieldingly before the fearsome monsters. As the trolls got in weapon range they vomited forth from their stomachs a putrescent mix of acids and half-digested carrion right onto our fighters, killing several immediately. But the rest of the boys kept pushing and fighting forward, not giving an inch of ground.

Suddenly from behind and to the right of the trolls a most welcome sound rang forth: the shout of the Miners as they emerged from the tunnels they had prepared in advance, waving their huge picks. Attacking the trolls from the rear, they became the hammer to the anvil of the hard-eyed Warriors, wounding and then routing the yelping and bleating enemy right off the battlefield. With our shooters on the hill to keep the goblins on the left at bay, the dwarf army held the field for the forces of Righteousness — if only barely and at a terrible cost.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: by the points, a Draw, with the dwarves only slightly outpointing the orcs & goblins, 687 to 630. For tournament purposes the victory was awarded to the dwarves, but only due to the superior paintedness of their models. Neither player got any help toward personal tournament victory: with both our generals dead and our best units destroyed, neither of us could claim any individual “battle points.” Collectively, however, the dwarf victory contributed to a first-round triumph of the good guys over the bad. Two rounds to go….]

[Tactical analysis: poor luck with my artillery allowed his goblins to approach my Ironbreakers without facing any panic tests. This led to the slaughter of my best unit and my heavily protected general – no armor saves allowed against goblin fanatics! He did roll very well on range and damage with the little buggers, but the lesson is nevertheless clear: keep well away from masses of night goblins, especially with my heavily armored or high-value regiments. Trolls are nasty, but good infantry can defeat them if one outnumbers them. Catapult misfires and missed bolt-thrower to- hit rolls (1 of 9 succeeded all game!) made me regret not coughing up the extra points for a cannon with a Rune of Forging. Miners are tremendously valuable as guys to bring in as flank/rear attackers to win decisive battles. Even arriving late (turn 4 here) is not too late to make a huge difference. Just keep lining up close to one board edge or the other to facilitate this tactic.]

Eighth Battle: A Taste of Necromancy
[Game situation: The Storm of Chaos tournament continues into the second round, with the dwarves now facing an army of Vampire Counts, played by Alex Knutrud. Both sides field the same 1000-point armies they used in the previous round (see the intro to battle description #7 for details on the dwarf forces).]

Snori’s log entry:
“With Orlaf fallen, someone had to take command, and a young (for a dwarf) apprentice Runesmith stepped forward to shoulder the burden. We knew that more foes approached rapidly and there was precious little time to recover stragglers and reform our units, but we all did the best we could under the circumstances. Some relief soldiers arrived from Robinson’s Rock, helping bring our units back to strength, even the Ironbreakers.

After the last goblins had slunk off we were able to advance forward to a pass through a large ravine where a legion of the living dead had been sighted by scouts. Putting most of our artillery on a knoll and ranging the Thunderers in a long line in front of it, our young commander deployed the rest of our forces to the left to block the pass. As night fell we began to hear ghostly sounds coming from the rocks and woods of the ravine in front of us: the creak of bare bones scraping along, the chilling howls of wolves no longer alive, and other, even more haunting sounds. By the light of the moon our gunners were able to take aim at the shadowy army of the enemy, which featured one unit of hell wolves and one of living skeletons on each flank, with dark individual figures moving about between them. The catapult crew, which had not exactly distinguished itself in the last battle, now managed to misfire so badly that the whole machine became a hopeless tangle of wood and rope, useless for the rest of the fight! Fortunately our bolt throwers and Thunderers fared better, tearing major gaps in the lines of the approaching wolves and skeletons. Still, mindlessly, the enemy came on.

On the left, sorcery from their evil Necromancer cast with irresistible force aided a unit of undead wolves led by a formidable vampire: rushed forward in a magical blur, the supernatural creatures charged with unexpected speed into our surprised Warriors. Unfortunately for the enemy, the Warriors held firm against the initial onslaught and began steadily to outfight them. Thanks in part to sheer weight of numbers, the Warriors whittle down their foes one wolf at a time until only the vampire leader remained. Hacked and hewed from all sides, he was soon dispatched. Meanwhile the Miners had positioned themselves to join the fray from the left, and soon this unit and the Warriors fearlessly charged the skeleton formation approaching them. The walking bones had already been damaged by missile fire and were soon overwhelmed and hacked apart by our combined units.

The battle briefly teetered in the balance when a cursed Banshee approached our Thunderers in front of the knoll on the right. All their gunfire had no effect on the ethereal creature, and her unholy scream killed one of them on the spot from the sound alone! Fortunately for us, our runesmiths had thought to carve a Rune of Burning into one of the bolt throwers we were using, and a magically aflame bolt from this device succeeded in slaying the wailing fiend. Things might have turned out very differently on the right side of the battle had that shot missed its mark.

The other bolt-thrower crew had a scary moment when two magically summoned skeletons materialized right in front of their weapon, blocking their aim and forcing the crew to scramble to defend themselves. Skewering one of the creatures with a bolt fired point blank, the lightly armed crewmen pushed their fear aside and rushed forward to engage the other; they managed to slay the bony automaton with their hand weapons.

The rest of the battle involved our soldiers converging on and killing the few remaining enemy leaders and troops, which we did with missile fire and good ol’ axe-swinging. The undead threat was averted, and the dwarfs could report to our imperial allies an overwhelming victory.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a Massacre for the dwarfs – every enemy model destroyed, and only one unit of ours (the self-destructing stone-thrower!) and a few individual models became dwarf casualties. The victory points were 1400 for us vs. 110 for them. In tournament terms, the good guys win another battle and I receive two “battle points” for keeping both my general and best unit alive.]

[Tactical analysis: undead skeleton forces appear to be ineffective in small units, unless their opponents fail the obligatory Fear tests. Since my dwarves have high leadership and brought larger infantry formations here, they had less to worry about. 5 dispel dice and a spellbreaking rune seem sufficient to keep a moderately wizard-laden enemy’s magic at bay, though a spell will (and did) get through once or twice. He had 6 power dice to use here. ALWAYS rune up some artillery and/or character weapons when facing an enemy who can field ethereal undead that can only be hurt by magic weapons – I was lucky my Burning bolt thrower was able to hit and kill his Banshee, as I had nothing else to use against her.]

Ninth Battle: Flanking the Ambush
[Game situation: The Storm of Chaos tournament continues into the third round. The GRINDING GRUMBLERS would now face an army of Chaos Beasts, played by Chris Easterling and new player Nils Knutrud. Both sides field the same 1000-point armies they used in the previous rounds (see the intro to battle description #7 for details on the dwarf forces).]

Snori’s log entry:
“We learned that our allies were also prevailing in their defense of the civilized lands, but that the enemy’s forces were not yet spent. Indeed, we heard that a pack of ravening Beasts of Chaos were headed right at us. Returning to our first battlefield, our young Runesmith again arrayed our Thunderers with two artillery pieces on the large hill, but then set our infantry and last bolt thrower off the right. Our Miners returned to the tunnels beneath the hill.

When the Beastmen made their appearance they did so in what looked like a huge herd of goat-headed Gors and Ungors coming through an alley between two rock outcroppings to the right, and a small herd of Centigor “cavalry” coming around to the left. Our Warriors and Ironbreakers cast many a rearward glance, half expecting a beastly ambush from the rear (a favored tactic of these Chaos fiends), but our shooters on the hill blasted away at the enemy in sight, causing light casualties among the Ungors and Centigores. The enemy responded with a surprisingly strong magical attack against the bolt-thrower deployed off the hill to the right: a succession of deadly blasts of energy slew the entire crew.

Suddenly there appeared an ambushing gang of goat-headed Gors and Ungors led by a particularly ugly shaman, not behind our infantry, but behind the gunners on the hill! It seemed a clever move by the enemy, for the ambushers were safe from our hardy infantry off to the right and would surely be a match for our crews and handgunners on the crest. The feral whoops and cries of the onrushing beastmen rang loud about the hill.

But we dwarves know a trick or two ourselves. Soon after the appearance of the beasts behind the hill our band of Miners scrambled out of their hidden tunnels right on the flank of the enemy! They had been aware of the beasts sneaking past the hidden tunnel entrance, and waited for them to make their move before emerging themselves. The dwarves’ sudden arrival startled the enemy, and while the beasts hesitated they were subjected to a fusillade of shooting from the massed gunnery just above them. As Ungors were shot down in large numbers, panic set in among the goat-heads, and soon the ambushed ambushers were fleeing at top speed away from the field, never to return.

The remaining Chaos beasts kept coming on, of course, not realizing perhaps that their skulking comrades had already been routed. The Centigors wheeled toward the Miners and prepared to charge them but were forestalled by heavy fire from Thunderers and a bolt-thrower. The few survivors sped away in the opposite direction. At about the same time the main body of Gors and Ungors threw themselves against our waiting Warriors and Ironbreakers. Both defending units stood their ground. Our Runesmith fought a duel with the monstrous opposing general, and wounded him badly even as he himself sustained a severe gash across the chest. In the melees swirling around the two, the dwarven regiments drew the most blood and soon had their opponents fleeing for their lives – and many lost the race. The battle ended in total victory for our lads.

When the army rejoined our allies we found that for the most part they had succeeded as well. The marauders had been repelled and the campaign was thankfully at an end. We did not stick around to celebrate with the others, however: elves and vampires may fight Chaos, but that doesn’t make them suitable drinking companions!”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a Massacre for the dwarves, 1600 points to 110 (all enemy units dead or fleeing, slain general, two board quadrants and three standards captured). Another victory for Good and 2 battle points for me (for preserving my general and my best unit). For the tournament, the Defenders won over the Chaos-led Attackers in a rout, winning nine of twelve battles outright, and gaining a draw in the other three. Lenny DeMauro scored the highest as general in leading his Vampire Counts for the Defense.

[Tactical analysis: triggering the panic test (ultimately failed) against the ambushing Gors and Ungors was the turning point in the game – the Thunderers really came through, as they did all through the tournament. The bolt-throwers were inconsistent from battle to battle, and the stone thrower was truly terrible – little but misfires and bad scatter rolls from it, even with my Rune of Accuracy. Clearly a cannon with a misfire-reducing Rune of Forging would have done far better. 5 dispel dice and a Rune of Spellbreaking worked well enough against opponents with 4 or 6 or 7 power dice — of the very few enemy spells to get through my defenses, two did so because they were cast with Irresistible Force, against which there is no defense anyway.]