Battle #20: Leave Magic to the Elves
[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. The Grumblers were challenged by Chris Walsh’s High Elven Mighty Mighty Whizzards. The players agreed on 2000 points. The dwarves brought one regiment of 19 Warriors, 15 elite Ironbreakers, 12 Crossbowmen, 10 Miners, 1 Gyrocopter, 1 Cannon, 1 Stone Thrower, 2 Bolt Throwers, 2 Runesmiths, and 1 Runelord with the Anvil of Doom.]

Log entry:
“ ‘Curse those shifty elves!’ yelled Buford Bugman, fearless leader of the dwarves of Robinson’s Rock.

Bugman had reason for anger. Before him stood a sheepish Runelord who had just reported the results of a battle fought against elves in the mountain passes not far from Robinson’s Rock. As usual, elven treachery was suspected.

“Sir,” the Runelord said, “they must have sabotaged our bolt throwers somehow before the battle; every time we shot, the bolts either missed completely or plunged into the ground without penetrating the enemy ranks.”

“Wouldn’t put it past ‘em, the pointy-headed fiends,” said Buford. “What did they think they were doing marching around our mountains anyway? Up to no good, they were!” said Buford. His eyes lit up: “Mark it down in the Book of Grudges! This crime will have to be avenged….”

Two days earlier the dwarves had heard that a large column of high elves were moving through a nearby mountain pass. Buford ordered that a blocking force be sent out immediately. He had planned on leading it himself, but the Council of Elders dissuaded him, suggesting that the dwarves go heavy on anti-magic, given that the great elven wizard Teclis was supposed to be accompanying the army. As it happened, this turned out to be a major error, for the elves were commanded not by Teclis, but his (equally unsavory) twin brother Tyrion, the greatest warrior among all elvenkind. This led to a bizarre turn of events: has there ever been a battle before between our two peoples where the dwarves were the only ones on the battlefield to wield magic (through our mastery of Runes), and the elves fought only with swords, arrows and spears? Doubtful!

The sneaky elves also moved very quickly through the pass, and our army barely had time to deploy itself before the foe approached, maneuvering behind a rocky hill to close the distance to us. Still, the battle started out well enough. We got off the first salvos, magical and otherwise, and his bowmen and Swordmasters advancing to the left took serious casualties from our crossbowmen, cannon, and stone thrower. By the time they reached halfway across the field they had lost more than half their strength. Our Miners then emerged from their tunnels, threatening a flank attack on these elves if they continued forward.

Elsewhere things went less well. On the far right, our gyrocopter zipped to where it could shoot at one of two enemy repeating bolt throwers and not be charged by the nearby enemy spearmen. Unfortunately, the pilot’s shooting skill was merely average, and he only killed one of the two crewmen with his steam gun; the other crewman showed himself a superior marksman, for he took one shot with the bolt thrower and destroyed the ‘copter!

But, good results or bad, the action on the two wings were mere sideshows: the real strength of the enemy was a large formation of heavy Silver Helm cavalry led by Tyrion and two lesser elven heroes. Our Runelord knew these horsemen had to be impeded in their advance, and succeeded more often than not in using his Rune of Water to muddy their path, slowing them substantially. However, for this action to matter the dwarven gunners had to make the horsemen pay when they crested the central hill, and here the artillery came up short. Volleys from every available gun and bolt thrower rang out, but all except the cannon missed, and it only managed to fell two enemy riders. (Here the dwarves began to suspect foul play with their bolt throwers: one had a Master Rune of Skewering on it, practically guaranteeing a hit for this particular shot, but the bolt fell harmlessly anyway.) Our Runelord’s Anvil also failed to slow them down further or do any direct damage to the column, meaning that they would soon be upon us.

Seeing the situation, our large unit of regular dwarven Warriors took it upon themselves to save the day. With just enough speed to reach the enemy in good order, they executed an aggressive charge against Tyrion and the cavalrymen immediately around him. Dwarven axes felled one of the riders, but seemed to bounce off of Tyrion’s armor, while his evil sword cut down four dwarves in return. A shiver went through the dwarven unit as the murderous intent and seeming invincibility of the legendary enemy champion became apparent to all, and the full weight of the heavy cavalry began to press onto the dwarves. For a moment they held; had they been able to keep up the fight just a little bit longer, the Ironbreakers to their left would have been able to position themselves to join the fight and possibly tip the balance.

But it was not to be. The Warriors broke order and ran, and this set off a terrible chain of events. The Warriors were run down and slain, leading the cavalry to crash into the crew of our stone thrower not far behind. These dwarves put up a briefly creditable defense, but they too broke and ran, allowing the heartless horsemen to charge right into the flank of the Ironbreakers, who in the confusion of fleeing dwarves and a fast-moving battle had been frozen in place. Hit unexpectedly in the side with overwhelming force, they took terrible casualties and soon broke and ran themselves — leading the enemy directly into the crew of the cannon. The swath of destruction continued, as the Silver Helms overran this crew and caught up to the fleeing Ironbreakers, destroying them completely.

At this point the dwarves had one last chance to salvage the situation. With the enemy cavalry briefly in the open and not in melee with dwarves, the Runelord at the Anvil and our two bolt throwers had a chance to get off some clean attacks. Once again, however, the bolt throwers seemed incapable of doing any damage, even with accurate shots, and a powerful blast from a Rune of Fire sent right into the midst of the Silver Helms melted away harmlessly against their armor. Opportunity missed, the carnage began anew. Tyrion single-handedly took out one bolt thrower crew, while the rest of the cavalry dispatched the crossbowmen who had gathered for a last stand nearby. (Earlier in the battle these dwarves had finished off the remaining elven bowmen and Swordmasters on the left; this was little consolation for them now, however.) Our last bolt thrower crew, on the far right, was eventually chased off by the elven spearmen on that side of the field. Of our combat units, only the Miners had put enough distance between themselves and the enemy to escape the fury of the horsemen.

Good thing the Runelord also managed to get away and bring back with him the Anvil of Doom. Those things are rare and monstrously expensive — had the elves captured it and the Runelord survived, he would have wished he hadn’t lived once Buford was done with him.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a Solid Victory for the elves, who won by a margin of 746 points. The only dwarven units to survive were the Miners, who snagged a board quadrant, and the Runelord general with the Anvil and guards; elven casualties included all of their Swordmasters and Bowmen, plus a repeating bolt thrower. So the Grumblers fall to the third tier on the board, and still cannot make a challenge of their own.

Tactical analysis: This was a tremendously interesting game. Chris, wishing to do something dramatically different so as not to lose four straight against the dwarves, went all “fighty” and took no magic. This bold and surprising move meant that the dwarves had wasted at least 200 points (of 2000) on now-useless magical defense. Chris maximized the benefit by concentrating his points on one super-fast, super-powerful cavalry unit and deploying the terrain in such a way that I only had a brief window of opportunity to shoot artillery at it before it closed on my lines. This unit was further boosted by Tyrion, which meant it automatically passed panic tests, plus another elf commander who had the Sacred Incense, which meant all shooting was at -1 to hit. A tough nut indeed! On the flip side, the lack of any elven wizards meant that the dwarven Anvil of Doom now got to work its own magic almost unimpeded, with Chris having a measly 2 dispel dice to counter its powerful spells. In the end the dwarven magic, while causing notable destruction - and most crucially cutting in half the advance of the elven cavalry 2 of the 3 turns possible by using the Rune of Water - could not quite make up the difference.

The game was in doubt for most its course, making it very entertaining to play. The key moment, we both agreed, came in my half of turn 4 when my 19 dwarven Warriors and a Runesmith got off a charge on his approaching mega-cavalry regiment. Chris and I discussed this charge for a while after the battle. In the end we decided that it was probably the right move to make, in that if the Warriors had just held their ground for one round (as they likely should have), I would have been able to move the Ironbreakers and other units to either get flank charges on the Silver Helms, or at the very least prevent the chain reaction of pursuit and overrun carnage that followed. The alternative would have been to sit tight and await Tyrion and the elves’ choice of devastating charges — but with another round of shooting at the Silver Helms first. Hmmmm. Since the Silver Helms were immune to panic, the shooting would have had to kill a great number of them to make any difference, and the previous turn’s gunnery had produced only 2 dead horsemen. But who knows what would have happened.

Luck was not a dominating factor in this game, though it seemed to favor the elves a bit overall. Chris did lose the first important roll of the game (to see who goes first), but after that more of the big rolls went his way. For example, the dwarves failed every break test they took, including the crucial one following the dwarven Warrior charge on the cavalry (they need to roll a 7 or less). Dwarven shooting also often fell short, particularly when aiming at the Silver Helms, or when trying to roll wounds with the bolt throwers (as opposed to the elven bolt thrower’s destruction of the gyrocopter in his first shot at it.) However, much of the bad dwarven shooting luck came on turn 6, when the battle was mostly lost already: average results then would probably have only narrowed the margin of dwarven defeat from solid to marginal. And at least the dwarven stone thrower kept its magnetic lock on the Swordmasters, causing massive damage to them just like in past games! If only it could have done the same with the Silver Helms...]

(Editor's Note: That was a splendid game! I was very nervous at first, as Eric gleefully slaughtered my archers and Swordsmasters. Viewed from above, the Swordsmasters formation spells out "Rocks hit right here!" :-) Fortunately, Tyrion managed to turn the game around. Regarding Eric's charge in the pivotal 4th turn: First, it was a colossal mistake for me to have left myself in charge range! In my defense, that darn Rune of Water cuts movement, and thus also halves charge range. I had to cut it close to make sure I could catch anything - and I cut it about a 1/4" too close. Given the opportunity to make the charge, Eric absolutely did the right thing. Gaining one more round of shooting was very likely to be ineffectual. Eric's shooting would have had to kill 5 horsemen to knock off a rank, and would have had to kill 9 horsemen to knock off a musician or champion. Tough to do in one turn against 1+ and 2+ saves, and nothing else would have helped his combat resolution, as Tyrion and the other Elf Commanders were causing the wounds. Even worse, if he lets me take my choice of charges, Tyrion would have charged war machines separately, with an eye to getting into one on one with the Anvil, while the rest of the Silver Helms ground their way through the rest of his army. To my mind, Eric took the much better chance that his dwarf warriors hold for at least a turn, thus pinning Tyrion and the unit both. Eric's decision was sound, but the dice just didn't roll his way on that first 50/50 break test. If Eric had made that roll, it's quite possible his Ironbreakers would have gotten into the fight on the Silver Helms flanks, and we'd be talking about a Dwarven victory. =Chris)

Battle #21: A Fat Toad Comes a'Knocking
[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. The Grumblers fought an advancement match with James Walsh’s Killer Geckos Lizardman army to see who got to occupy a new opening on the 4th tier – 2 from the top! The players agreed on 2000 points. The dwarves brought one regiment of 19 Warriors, 19 elite Hammerers, two units of 12 Thunderers, 10 Miners, 10 Slayers, 1 Cannon, 1 Stone Thrower, 1 Organ Gun, 2 Runesmiths, and 1 warrior Lord.]

Log entry:
“We knew that our trading mission’s encounter with the Lizardmen in the southlands (see Battle #19: Creepin’ Lizards) would lead to further trouble, but were surprised at how quickly it came.

Barely weeks after the return of that mission, word reached Robinson’s Rock of a Lizardman force approaching our mountain fastness. Rumor had it that giant dinosaurs made up part of the invading force. Our fearless leader Buford Bugman immediately outfitted a dwarven army suitable to meet the challenge and marched out of the hold to lead it personally, trusty beer mug in hand. Taking up a defensive position around a tall hill overlooking the approaches, the dwarves watched the enemy sneaking up in two groups: on the right moving through the woods was a mass of Skink skirmishers, some with blowguns and others with javelins, led by a Skink priest. On the left, two fire-breathing Salamanders and their herders lurked in the cover of a small hill while a regiment of Saurus Warriors approached through a pass. In addition, hovering lazily behind them was what appeared to be an enormous bloated toad. Our Runesmiths knew better: this was a dreaded Slann Mage-Priest, and one of the oldest and most powerful ones by the look of him.

But all Buford could think about were dinosaurs. “Our scouts said there’d be great big lumbering attack lizards!” he shouted. “Where are they? I built this force to face dinosaurs, not floating toad-wizards!” And it was true: Buford had brought along an organ gun (which could rip apart charging monsters but has too limited a range to target distant wizards) and a band of Slayers, those somewhat screwy dwarves who reveled in risking life and limb to hack away at giant-sized enemies, but whose limited numbers and absence of armor made them less effective against other kinds of foes. “Our scouts have failed us again. I’m going to have to stop listening to the fools,” he said.

Buford had put all the artillery on the central hill and deployed Thunderer handgunners and dwarf Warriors to the right and more Thunderers, the Slayers, and himself with his Hammerer bodyguards on the left. Miners waited in nearby tunnels. Shooting by our artillery did little at first but began to cause damage as the enemy closed and our two units of Thunderers got in on the act. A stone from our stone thrower caused a panic among one of the Skink skirmishing units on the right, causing it to flee from the field. On the left the Saurus Warriors and Salamanders began to take heavy casualties from cannon and handgun fire. The fire-breathers eventually broke and fled. The Saurus Warriors, however, showed great courage in not only taking the punishment, but, depleted, charging straight into our Hammerers. Buford engaged their general (a decorated Saurus Scar-Veteran) in a duel. Though Buford took a little time getting going – he was too worried about spilling his beer – a nasty sword wound across his (ample) belly woke him up, and he soon got into the swing of things and managed to beat the lizard down. The Hammerers finished off the rest of the unit.

All the while the ancient Slann Mage-Priest was pouring down upon us a bevy of the most devastating magic imaginable, including a spell powerful enough to level whole towns! Fortunately, we dwarves resist magic naturally, and our Runesmiths were working hard reciting many a Rune of Spellbreaking to keep our forces safe from what could have been magical ruination. For the most part, the smiths succeeded. Little harm came to the dwarves from spells.

Indeed, the only dwarf unit to be entirely lost during the battle was our stone thrower, which self-destructed upon misfiring. On the right, our Miners made a sudden appearance right behind the remaining unit of skirmishers and the Skink priest. The slippery lizards managed to run away from Miners, but in doing so exposed themselves to fire from our cannon and Thunderers: a cannonball took out the priest, and multiple gun shots sent the last Skink mass fleeing right off the field.

In the end, only the Slann Mage Priest remained, floating belligerently around on his little platform. Seeing that he was alone against virtually the entire dwarf army, he shook his horny little fist and sped away. We won’t miss him.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a win for the dwarves in a Massacre, roughly 1200 points in lizard kills and board quadrants controlled to 110 points of dead dwarves. The Grumblers therefore advance to the 4th tier where, barring another chance opening in the level above, they must await challenge from below to defend their new position.

Tactical analysis: Last-minute problems making 2000 points led James to cross himself (and me!) up in terms of what he brought. I expected a big dinosaur and instead got a 1200-point (!) uber-wizard in the Slann Mage-Priest special character. Fortunately I had brought just enough magical defense to get by (two Runesmiths, for 6 dispel dice, plus four crucial Runes of Spellbreaking). James hit his city-destroyer spell 5 times in 6 tries, but I Runed it four times and the other time the spell fizzled on its own as it was about to hit ground – lucky for me! Given the huge expense of the floating toad, James did not have enough other troops to make headway against all my gunners and infantrymen. Without enough magical support for his fighters, the battle went my way quickly. Side note: I brought an organ gun for the first time, but didn’t fire it once – James stayed out of its range the whole game.]

Battle #22: Avenging an Ancient Grudge
[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. Alex Knutrud’s Followers of Eternal Night challenged the Grumblers to a 2500-point match. The dwarves brought two regiments of Warriors (one with 22 and one with 12), 18 elite Hammerers, 16 Miners, 12 Crossbowmen, 12 Thunderers, 10 Slayers, a cannon, 2 bolt throwers, Malakai Makaisson’s Goblin Hewer, 2 Runesmiths, and – making his first appearance with the Grumblers – Alrik Ranulfsson, a powerful (and expensive) special character, as army general.]

Log entry:
“The arrival of emissaries from King Alrik Ranulfsson of the Karak-Hirn dwarf hold caused quite a stir at Robinson’s Rock. It seems that the great leader, a famous settler of ancestral grudges against our people’s enemies, was leading an expedition of vengeance against the Lahmian vampire counts who, centuries ago, stole away from the dwarves the mining stronghold of Silver Pinnacle. Alrik meant to retake it. Passing near our mountain fastness, he sent the emissaries to request our assistance. It seemed to all of us to be a dangerous – perhaps even a foolhardy – mission, but with Alrik at the head, not a few thought it might have a chance of succeeding. Our lord Buford assembled some volunteers and sent a unit of Thunderers and a cannon as well. He figured Alrik could use the firepower, since Alrik was known to prefer the “old ways” and scorned in his own hold “newfangled” weaponry like black powder guns.

Our boys quickly met up with the expedition, and within days we were all marching out to the remote area of the World’s Edge Mountains where Silver Pinnacle lies. As we drew near, a delegation from the vampires led by the most exquisite female I have ever seen met with Alrik. The beautiful women (or was she an undead temptress?) politely requested that we withdraw before blood was spilled. Alrik, momentarily stunned by the charming creature before him, started to murmur his assent before he shook his head and recovered his wits. Then out of his mouth poured a string of dwarven curses and vows (and much spittle), and the eyes of the she-fiend flashed angrily before her delegation turned and departed. We knew battle would soon be joined.

The vampires came at us two days later as we ascended the final mountain pass leading to Silver Pinnacle. Alrik had no time to deploy his artillery on high ground — indeed, the only unit to get to any elevation, a group of crossbowmen, was immediately hit with an overwhelming blast of dark magical energy, killing all but one of them! With this unfortunate opening the battle commenced. The dwarves arranged themselves in a rough semi-circle protecting the artillery and waiting for the onslaught. On the left came a regiment of Black Knight cavalry followed by a screaming banshee. On the right two more banshees preceded three large skeleton masses and two units of dire wolves, all led by vampiric — and other — wizards of amazing power. Behind them all on a great height stood an undead liche priest with a Casket of Souls howling out a terrible melody meant not just to frighten, but, like the screech of a banshee, to drive the living to insanity and death.

After the initial magical onslaught the dwarves, with the help of their Runesmiths, did a much better job of shrugging off the enchantments. Next, our gunners, especially the goblin hewer, began to take a heavy toll of the slowly advancing enemy army, and all dug in their heels for a long fight. On the left the largest unit of dwarf infantry stood ready to face down the charging Black Knight cavalry. They had mostly mastered their rising fear when at the last moment the Knights revealed a magical banner of great power that pierced the dwarves’ hearts like an icy arrow. A rout ensued, and the evil skeletal cavalry wiped out the hapless warriors and the Runesmith who had led them. On the right, two banshees floated up to Alrik’s veteran Hammerers and let out their screams of death – to no effect! These dwarves, between their own natural courage, Alrik’s leadership, and the Runic banner they carried with them, were completely immune to the shrill wails of the foul creatures. Alrik then led his soldiers in a charge of one of the banshees, caught her, and slew her. Overrunning that position at top speed, Alrik and the Hammerers tried to attack a pack of dire wolves, but couldn’t quite reach them. (Alrik, who is carried into battle on a great shield borne by two immensely strong bodyguards, made quite a sight as, shouting at the top of his lungs, he urged his dwarves to charge faster, his poor bearers huffing and puffing red-faced beneath him. But stubby dwarven legs can only go so fast….) Failing to catch the wolves meant that the Hammerers were now out of position, and it looked like things might go ill for the remaining dwarves on the right without their protection.

Hence the battle looked like it might turn out badly. But events began to turn to the dwarves’ favor. Before fighting began, Alrik had cleverly set his Miners on the task of finding an underground path to the hill where the enemy had positioned the frightful Casket of Souls. Suddenly emerging from their tunnels, the Miners rushed forward to destroy the relic of ancient evil. The liche priest and his guards faced around to them and tried to drive them off with both terrifying visions and deadly swords, but the dwarves relentlessly pressed on and managed to drive their great picks through the priest and his guards. The danger from the Casket was now averted.

On the battlefield below them the fight still raged. On the left the Black Knights, somewhat whittled down from gunfire, together with their accompanying banshee threatened to destroy all the artillery set up on that side, and indeed had already driven into flight one bolt-thrower crew. But our Thunderers from Robinson’s Rock gathered themselves and, putting away their handguns, charged the Knights’ flank, killing them all with axes and hammers. Meanwhile, the nearby cannon blasted the lone banshee into ethereal smithereens with Rune-treated grapeshot. On the right, a small unit of crazed Slayers charged into a pack of dire wolves, overran them, and smashed into the nearest regiment of skeleton warriors. That fight lasted for some time, and the Slayers fought with extraordinary skill, eventually killing all the skeletons (who had been winnowed down, it’s true, by the goblin hewer) before being slain themselves by the powerful Lahmian vampire countess who was generalling the enemy forces that day. She and the other wizards let loose a final torrent of evil magics, wounding and slaying many a dwarf in units all across our army, but dwarven discipline asserted itself and the army stood firm. Now faced by repositioned Hammerers, a supporting unit of Warriors, and two artillery pieces that kept firing away and killing skeletons, the Lahmian countess decided to cut her losses and called an end to the fight, retreating with what was left of her forces to the heights of Silver Pinnacle.

The victory had been a glorious one for Alrik and the dwarves, but the cost had been high. Most of our regular warriors and crossbowmen lay dead on the field, and only two of four artillery units still functioned at full capacity; a Runesmith had perished as well. Alrik knew that an assault on Silver Pinnacle itself would now be impossible. So he untied and opened up Karak-Hirn’s Book of Grudges and added, with a satisfied smile on his face, a new entry of one more ancient grudge avenged. But, putting the book away, his smile turned to a grimace when he gazed up at the still-unrecovered Silver Pinnacle. He shook his gnarly fist at the heights, turned around, and shouted at his dwarves to make ready to leave. We all faced a long march home.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a win for the dwarves in a Solid Victory, roughly 1600 points in vampire kills and two board quadrants controlled to almost 900 points of dead dwarves & one quadrant. The Grumblers have now defended their spot on the 4th tier and gained a challenge token, which they can use to challenge up to the 5th tier.

Tactical analysis: This was a well-fought and exciting battle, with many shifts of fortune back and forth. Alex did a fine job of terrain placement, preventing the dwarves from having any good hills on which to deploy their shooters. I tried to set up in such a way as to keep Alex guessing about where my main force was going to be, and it seems to have worked to some extent: most of his units had a very long march to get to my lines, and two units of skeletons never quite made it. On the other hand, Alex sought to avoid my mass of elite Hammerers throughout the battle, and with the exception of a single lost banshee, succeeded in this. With only a few major close combats fought, the battle came down to my shooting (and Miners) vs. Alex’s magic. Fortunately for me, the Miners passed all their Fear/Terror tests (at Ld 9) and succeeded in taking out the Casket of Souls, which made the task of magical defense more manageable – it had looked touch and go there for a while, especially after Alex killed one of my two Runesmiths with a Rune of Spellbreaking still to cast.

My shooting luck was decent overall, especially when it most counted, enabling me to kill two banshees with artillery shots. Alex’s spell die rolling started and ended the game with incredible good luck, causing much carnage, but his power dice went cold for him during the middle portions of the battle, when his outnumbered forces really could have used some assistance. On the whole, averaging out the wild swings, luck seems to have come out pretty evenly, though I felt fortunate in blowing very few rolls that I really needed.

Neither Alex nor I seemed anxious to get our two generals in close combat with each other. It would have been a glorious fight, Alrik with all his Runes and attacks vs. the Countess with her killer 100-point magical sword. If she got to strike first, which would have been a near certainty, she might have killed Alrik with one blow! But if he got his whacks in, including his Runic axe that would have shattered the Countess’ sword, he probably would have ground her down before too long. The risks were huge for both of us: the Countess was not cheap and her death would have crumbled Alex’s army, while Alrik cost me a big fat 425 points and was also my general.]
 

Battle #23: Fighting for our Lives Against the Dead
[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. The Grumblers challenged Lenny DeMauro’s Cult of Nod vampire count army to try to take their spot on the 5th tier. The two sides agreed to fight at 2000 points. The dwarves brought one regiment of 19 Warriors, 18 elite Hammerers, 16 Miners, 12 Thunderers, 10 Slayers, a cannon, 2 bolt throwers, Malakai Makaisson’s goblin hewer, 2 Runesmiths, and a Lord to serve as general.]

Log entry:
“Three weeks after our volunteers left Robinson’s Rock to join Alrik Ranulfsson’s attack on the vampires of distant Silver Pinnacle [see previous battle report], Buford Bugman began to worry. Three weeks, and not a word from them for good or ill. It’s not that Buford mistrusted Alrik or the mission; no, he figured our boys were safe enough as long as they were with Alrik’s army. Rather, he worried that the relatively small force might encounter trouble on the long journey back to Robinson’s Rock after leaving Alrik. How could our soldiers — just a few Thunderer handgunners and a cannon and crew — ever make it back through so much hostile territory alone? Eventually Buford decided he had to act, and assembled a relief force to march out and meet them.

We set out in fairly strong numbers two days later and had been gone less than a week when, to the great joy of our fearless leader and us all, we met the volunteers coming back along the road, safe and sound. They told us of the great battle beneath Silver Pinnacle, and of the glorious (but costly) dwarven victory, and the prudent decision of Alrik not to attempt a siege with the forces he had left. Since parting with Alrik they had traveled homewards as fast as possible, believing that enemies followed and might soon catch them. Buford decided that it would be better to turn and face the pursuers in orderly fashion rather than be caught strung out along on the road, and so deployed the dwarves then and there as best he could: on a small hill to the right overlooking the road he placed the Thunderers and Malakai’s goblin hewer, with Miners lurking in tunnels below; the main force he set to their left just off the road itself, with the Hammerers, Warriors and Slayers guarding the cannon and two bolt throwers.

The dwarves didn’t have long to wait. At dusk the loathsome undead appeared, creaking and lurching their way down the path, moaning as they came. Leading the way were a pack of rotting dire wolves and a regiment of Black Knights. Following behind were two skeleton units, a group of ghoul skirmishers, a Black Coach chariot, and two necromancers – one of them a vampire riding a monstrous winged Nightmare. Finally, striding forward from a terraced rock to our left – they must have snuck around behind it ahead of time – was a group of five mercenary “leadbelchers” (big fat ogres carrying a small cannon each). Buford ordered the artillery and Thunderers to concentrate their fire on the ogres and wolves as the most immediately dangerous foes. The darkening skies must have interfered with our crews’ aim, however, since after much firing only two ogres and a few wolves were slain. Buford and the Hammerers then bravely advanced forward to take the charge of the onrushing Black Knights. The undead cavalry crashed into the Hammerers’ ranks with great force, killing several with their cruel lances. However, the dwarves held firm, and Buford, in a duel with the vampire thrall who led the knights, killed his foe with two great swings of his axe. A shout of triumph went up from the Hammerers, and they pressed forward against the skeletal cavalry, using the weight of their ranks and numbers as much as their hammers to crush the enemy. Before long there was nothing left of the knights but splintered bones crunching beneath dwarven boots.

This initial victory greatly heartened our army. But soon we had less to cheer about. The ogres on the left, despite having to deal with both our artillery fire and their own misfiring weapons, still managed to shoot well enough to kill a few dwarves, reload, and get ready to fire again. Our Slayers, who might have challenged them, followed Buford’s instructions to take down the enemy dire wolves. This they did, charging and slaying the slavering undead animals, though this left them unable to confront the ogres. On the right, our hill position (with the Thunderers and Malakai’s goblin hewer) suddenly came under assault from a magically created mass of zombies and the enemy vampire general flying in on his Nightmare. The vampire swooped down on the goblin hewer, and, after a fierce extended fight, wiped out its crew and incapacitated Malakai with a grievous wound. Our Miners emerged from their tunnels just in time to face off against the zombies; they beat back the undead charge and slew every last one of them. But when faced with the terror of the vampire general’s monstrous mount, the Miners hastily fled back to their tunnels. (Buford almost dropped his mug of beer when he witnessed this shocking failure of discipline!)

The battle was now fully joined, and its outcome remained uncertain. The dwarves scored a significant victory when a shot from their cannon shattered the enemy’s approaching Black Coach chariot. But our good cheer evaporated when the ogres wiped out the cannon crew with their own guns. A bolt thrower managed to kill one of the two mercenary fiends, but was then charged and destroyed by the last one. Our other bolt thrower — and the last of our artillery — was soon silenced by a wraith that crept up on it though a copse of woods and attacked it all of a sudden. Yet our main infantry force still stood solid at the front lines, facing down two skeleton units opposing them and driving off a band of ghoul skirmishers who came too close.

The battle might have ended in a rough stalemate, with the dwarves holding their ground against their attackers, had the enemy general not pushed his luck too far. Setting his sights on the Thunderers on the hill, he prepared to charge them and their Runesmith leader. The dwarves gave up the chance to fire their handguns, reformed their ranks, and prepared to meet the flying horror and its rider in battle. When the vampire came, he came right at our Runesmith, who bravely stepped forward to fight. In the initial exchange of blows, the smith’s inherent toughness — and heavy gromril armor! — kept him safe, while he managed to cut a deep gash in the Nightmare monster. In fact, the vampire general never wounded him with all the blows he delivered. Meanwhile, the rest of the Thunderers were pressing in on the duel and using their numbers to shoot, club and drag down both the vampire and his mount. Just before the dwarves could finish the job, however, the Nightmare beast lashed out at the valiant Runesmith with a claw, tearing out his throat. The Thunderers then slew the vampire and his mount, mindful of the sacrifice of their unit commander.

With the destruction of the chief necromancer, whose evil magic animated the whole undead army, the enemy host began to disintegrate. As the dwarves watched, zombies and skeletons crumbled to dust before them, and the rest of their adversaries fled the field shrieking. Buford watched them go, and took a deep draught from his ever-full mug of beer. Wiping his beard, he looked around at the stalwart dwarves around him and said: ‘All’s well that ends well, boys. Let’s go home.’

And so we did.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a win for the dwarves in a Solid Victory, roughly 1700 points to 752. The dwarves captured a standard and killed the opposing general, plus got further points for slaying the general’s monster, a unit of Black Knights, a unit of dire wolves, two units of zombies, and a few skeletons and mercenary ogres here and there. The vampires destroyed all the dwarf artillery, the Miners, and one Runesmith. With this victory the Grinding Grumblers advance to the 5th tier – one shy of the tip top! – to await challenge from below.

Tactical analysis:
This was a close, fun match — if, very late in the game, I hadn’t killed his hugely expensive general and caused all the crumbling, the battle would have been a toss-up. Lenny deployed the terrain in such a way that denied me a clear field of fire from any hill; I countered by setting up so that the bulk of his army had to come a very long way to reach me through a fairly narrow gully. My Hammerers, led by Buford and bolstered with a Rune of Courage, were almost unbeatable and nicely clogged up the middle of the field. His ogres and his general, both coming in at the flanks, inflicted most of the damage for the vampires.

At times Lenny and I seemed to be competing to see who could roll more pathetically (and complain more bitterly). My artillery luck was atrocious, with bolt throwers and goblin hewer causing very little damage. Meanwhile, his leadbelchers misfired on two of their first three shots, and his vampire general had a hard time hitting anything at any time. But on the whole luck (or the lack of it!) did not seem to favor one side or the other too drastically.

I continue to maintain that the dwarves match up well against undead armies. The dwarves’ uniformly high leadership and ability to take magical artillery and banners means that the things that devastate other armies — frequent fear & terror tests, banshee howls, and ethereal beasties — are not much of a challenge for the dwarves. As long as we take care to avoid getting in hand-to-hand combat with outnumbering formations of skeletons or other undead, we should have an edge going in. In this battle, Lenny did a very good job of nibbling at my flanks, killing artillery pieces and occasional others here and there, but never had much of a chance at wresting control of the central battle line from my big infantry formations. Indeed, he probably should not have attempted to charge my Hammerers with his Black Knights all alone, but waited to bring up his other forces first. Lenny’s late-game charge on my ranked-up Thunderers with his vampire general was risky, and ultimately backfired, but under the circumstances (behind on points by a few hundred and needing something special) he probably had to do it. If he had been luckier, he might have won that fight and thrown the game into doubt. As for me, ignoring the ogres after their initial mishaps was costly. Either the Slayers or the Miners should have been directed against them.]

Battle #24: Q: Who's Tougher, Ogres or Cannons? A: Heavy Cavalry

[Game situation: 6-turn pitched battle. The Grumblers were challenged by Jon Walsh’s Royal Eagles Empire army trying to take the dwarves’ spot on the 5th tier. The two sides agreed to fight at 2000 points. The dwarves brought one regiment of 18 Warriors, 12 Miners, two units of Thunderers (one of 15 and one of 10), 12 Crossbowmen, 4 Ogre Irongut dogs of war, 2 cannons, 2 bolt throwers, 1 stone thrower, 1 Runesmith, a Thane to serve as a Battle Standard Bearer and another Thane to serve as general. The Battle Standard had a Rune of Kadrin on it to allow the Thunderers it was deployed with to reroll 1s when trying to hit with either their handguns or in close combat.]

Log entry:
“Dwarven hero Rory the Black was sure he had done right.

Returning home with a trade caravan bringing goods from afar, Rory’s escort force encountered a fearsome looking band of ogres lurking in some hills not too far from Robinson’s Rock. Rather than simply attack the nasty brutes, he decided to negotiate with them. It turns out they needed money, and wanted to hire on with the dwarves. Some of our number grumbled that dwarves had no business comingling with ogres (except when killing them), but Rory thought getting their help would be a great coup for our hold. When the force returned, Buford, our fearless leader, agreed with him, thinking it better to lose the lives of mercenary ogres than dwarves in battle. But he was cautious too. “Let’s see how they fight first,” he declared, and contacted his friend Lord Altendorf to set up a practice battle.

On the appointed day Rory deployed his plentiful artillery and Thunderers on a large hill, with Warriors guarding the approach to the left and Crossbowmen to the right. Dead center stood the ogres, a smelly mass of aggression waiting to knock over some humans. Arrayed on the other side of the field was the “enemy,” also with much artillery on a central hill, but with hammer-bearing cavalry to the left and, to the right, two lines of handgunners, a long line of heavily barded cavalry, and a band of skirmishing bowmen. Here and there human wizards cowered among the men, looking to rain down magical damage from a distance.

The battle opened with salvos from the dwarven side first, which damaged but did not destroy one of the human cannons; we also landed a big (fake) rock from a stone thrower right on the head of one of the human wizards. He was knocked out cold for the duration. The humans now burst into activity, returning fire with their guns, casting all manner of magical spells from their wizards, and advancing across the field with everyone else. Their great cannons sent balls crashing into our stone thrower and one of our cannons, shattering them both. This hurt our cause, but at least the enemy magic largely fizzled against the inherent dwarven resistance and the defensive preparations of our Runesmith. The dwarves countered the enemy moves across the field by unleashing the ogres in the middle, letting them charge into the overeager human cavalry coming in from the right. The ogres’ crashed into the horsemen, but had difficulty hitting the knights – they did knock one off his horse, but the rest kept up their attack unfazed. More meleeing ensued, and the ogres were being forced back by the weight and numbers of the armored beasts and men, and soon lost the stomach (if that can be said of any ogre) for the fight. Off they ran, pursued and run down by the cavalry. Rory, watching from the hill, groaned.

The dwarves, meanwhile, had been blasting away with all their shooters and had considerably more success than the ogres. The crew of the enemy’s Helblaster was chased off, and by the time they returned to their gun it had been destroyed by a shot from a dwarven bolt thrower. The human skirmishers on the far right and hammer-bearing cavalry on the far left fled under heavy fire, never to return. Furthermore, the dwarf Miners had made their appearance on the humans’ own hill (coming up from tunnels beneath) and chased off the crew of a great cannon, despite having to endure tremendous fire from human mortars and the cannon’s grapeshot. But the two lines of human handgunners had now advanced into range of the dwarf hill and had decimated the larger of the Thunderer detachments. In fact, Rory and the Battle Standard Bearer had to abandon the one unit of Thunderers for the other. On the right, the enemy heavy cavalry had weathered much missile fire and routed the dwarven crossbowmen, pursing them right into the crewmen of an artillery unit behind them.

At this point Rory made a fateful choice. Should he stay away from the enemy cavalry and let them continue their rampage unchallenged? The fact was that the battle was proceeding fairly well for the dwarves everywhere else on the field, and it looked like they could win the day by simply ignoring the horsemen and just trading fire with the other humans. But Rory was a good and honorable dwarf: it would be far better, he deemed, to lead his doughty Thunderers in a flank charge on the human cavalry, dispersing them before they caused more harm and thereby winning the field in a rout. Besides, he had a Runic battle standard to rally his fighters with – they’d never desert it.

And so he led his dwarves in a charge into the flank of the cavalry. It was the braver move and also sound strategy, and should have won the battle for the dwarves. But it failed miserably. The dwarves, even Rory himself with his great axe, couldn’t seem to penetrate the heavy armor of the human knights. Even worse, the humans unexpectedly wounded the dwarves in striking back, causing them to hesitate. At this crucial juncture the Runic banner did no good whatsoever. It seems that the dwarf holding it aloft was too short – no one could see the standard! – and so the Thunderers fled ignominiously, not only getting run down themselves by the horsemen but leading them right into the rear ranks of the dwarf warriors on the other side of the field! What was intended to be the coup de grace that finished off the enemy, instead finished off the dwarves. When the battle ended the referees judged it a total victory for the humans, and no one argued.

Least of all Rory. Red-faced with fury, he didn’t know whether to be angrier with the sad-sack ogre mercenaries or his own Thunderers. The sound of his tirades filled the darkening sky, amusing the victorious humans, plaguing the dwarves on the receiving end.”

-Snori Whitebeard

[Game result: a win for the human Empire in a Massacre, by a 1206 point margin (thanks not only to greater dwarven casualties but to two captured standards, a board quadrant, and a slain dwarven general). With this loss the Grinding Grumblers fall back to the 4th tier and will have to await challenge from below.]

[Tactical analysis:

Another human-dwarf artillery duel, and a very close one most of the way, this match turned in unexpected ways.

Both sides brought heavily shooty armies, of course, but Jon also went heavily magical and the dwarves had planned only moderate magical defenses. But as luck would have it, I rolled well with my dispel dice, and Jon miscast more often than he got Irresistible Force. As a result, the three Runes of Spellbreaking the dwarves brought were just enough to block all the Comet of Cassandora spells Jon managed to successfully cast, and the dwarves got away with very little damage from enemy magic.

The strategies of the two sides were sensible, predictable, and generally well executed: the dwarves shot at everything and played defense but for the Miners going for the enemy guns, while the humans shot at everything (with guns and magic) while attacking the dwarven flanks with cavalry and moving their handgunners and helblaster into range in the middle. I should have deployed the crossbowmen where the smaller unit of Thunderers ended up. Jon inadvertently advanced his cavalry into the charge range of the ogres. But otherwise the plans and tactics of each side were OK.

The shooting duel was fairly even. Jon rolled well with his mortars and handgunners and caused major casualties among the Miners and Thunderers. He also destroyed two of my guns with his two cannons in their first shots. But I got my hits in too, and Jon did not have his usual luck in making panic tests – quite a few of his units ran away this game, whereas the superior dwarven leadership actually paid off for once in terms of panic tests made.

But when it came to close combat, the dwarves couldn’t catch a break. Jon’s heavy cavalry (with 1+ armor saves) fought well all game long, scoring a good number of hits but more importantly making most armor saves against everything from handguns to crossbows to great weapons and small axes. This meant the dwarves had to pass break tests, usually at minuses, and despite having a battle standard nearby for most of the fight, I simply couldn’t make it work. The key confrontation was the charge of the Thunderers (with two thane heroes and the right to reroll 1s to hit) into the flank of the heavy cavalry: just one wounded knight would have won the round for the dwarves handily and would have either broken the cavalry or gained the dwarves the numbers advantage for the rest of the melee; but I couldn’t do it, and when he killed a Thunderer with his one knight’s attack-back, I had to roll and 8 or less break test on two tries. I failed them both, and that was it, for the battle and the game. Bad luck? Yes. But I was lucky at other times in this battle; moreover, I could have avoided the whole issue here by playing it safe, letting the knights rampage through my bolt thrower and probably off board, and just concentrating my Thunderers’ gunfire on the remains of the human army elsewhere on the field. Fighting the honorable fight is fine and dandy, but sometimes it can lose you the battle….]