The Battle of Peak Pass (and so it begins)

Spidysense Boombottom chuckled, and turned to the army commander. “Dats dat.. you got nuttin to worry ‘bout. De stumpy messengers nevva made it to da peak. Me and da spideyboyzs got ‘em.”

Glarsnot Bloodcurdle grinned—this was good news. While the Runelords of Karak Kadrin would know of the defeat of the Dwarven army, the garrison at Peak Pass would still be in the dark. If he hurried, perhaps he could seize the strategic location before Dwarven reinforcements could arrive…

* * *

Thane Rufus Redbeard sat within the thick, stony walls of Peak Pass Lookout, and glanced at the calendar on the wall. It had been a three days since his good friend Karn Steelaxe has passed this way at the head of a Dwarven army. They had been marching eastwards to the Dark Lands, where they would crush the orc and goblin hordes that had been accosting mining expeditions. No doubt they would be back soon with tales of heroic battle and mounds of greenskin dead. Brewmaster Barleycorn had best be ready: no one could go through vats of ale like a victorious Dwarven legion!

Just then, a call sounded from the watch-post above. Perhaps this was them! Redbeard strode up the stairs to the roof of the tower..

Sure enough, Dwarven warriors could be seen in the distance. But these were not returning champions, but rather survivors fleeing a pursuing greenskin horde. And the Steelaxe banner was not among them. The Thane’s heart sank as realization dawned: the punitive expedition had been crushed, their general lost, and the dwarves were now in flight. In flight! From greenskins!

Grimly, Thane Redbeard grabbed his Axe of Striking and turned to his sergeant. “Sound the alarm! I want all men at their posts. We’ve got some fighting ahead of us…”

* * *

Fizzle Tindertwig grumbled.. why was he here, polishing the organ gun for another countless time , while the rest of the crew were at Barleycorn’s enjoying honey mead? Its not like anything happened here. Ever.

With a start, he heard the alarm sound. He rushed to the edge of the redoubt, and looked out to the westward approaches to the pass. By Gurnisson’s axe, it was Orcs! Hordes of them, shouting foul greenskin curses as they pursued a bloodied, retreating band of Dwarves. And all of them were headed for his position!

* * *

“The problem with miners,” reflected Klazak Axecrazed, “is that they can’t hold their mead.”

Technically this wasn’t true of course—indeed, miners could imbibe quite a lot of it. However, as the array of staggering dwarves in the inn today indicated, none could really out-drink a Daemonslayer.

Just then, he heard a ringing in his ears. He shook his head: no, it wasn’t the drink. It was the alarm from the lookout…

“Up and on yer feet, lads—we’ve got company!” Quarrelers and gunners–stop yer drinkin’ and staggerin’, and get to your posts! Miners, form up outside, picks in hand! Whoever slays the least pays for the next round!

* * *

“Hurry, men! Quicken your pace! We have to get there before nightfall!”

It had been more than many years since his uncle, the Slayer King Ungrim Ironfist, had fought near this very place, to keep the Orcs from the gates of Karak Kadrin. Now, with news of the defeat of the Dwarven expedition to the Dark Lands, the task of defending the city once more fell to an Ironfist. If they could reinforce the garrison before the greenskins broke through the defences, the threat to Karak Kadrin could be averted and the foe thrown back to whence they had come.

If not… if not, the city could fall under siege for the first time in more than a century. The cost could be immense. It was far better that the enemy be stopped here, in this narrow pass through the World’s Edge.

He turned to his troops: Warriors, Ironbreakers, and even a Slayer contingent from the Shrine of Grimnir. “Pick up the pace, men! There’s not much time!”

* * *

The retreating dwarves were finally within sight of the garrison. Yet it was clear to Thane Retrograde Hammertongs that they weren’t all going to make it before their vicious green foes fell upon them.

“We can hold ‘em, Sir. There are only a few thousand. Why, back in the day, we used to slay more than that before breakfast…”

Hammertongs smiled at the Longbeard commander. Its true that his men never shied from a fight—and had never lost one. Indeed, if it hadn’t been for their remarkable heroism at the Battle of the Foothills, the entire Dwarven Army would have been lost.

“No Greybeard. Its time for the young ‘uns to prove their mettle. I’ve ordered the Thunderers to hold here, and for the Warriors to hold our left flank. I want you and your men to make for the Lions, and make your stand there.”

“We’re not running!” The elderly longbeard spluttered in indignation. “Those young’uns couldn’t fight a snotling. Let them flee, we’ll hold the greenskins back…”

Thane Hammertongs glowered at the commander, silencing his grumbles. “No, you’ll do as ordered. You’ll march to the narrows of the pass, to the statues of the Lions of Heroism, and make your stand at the foot of the road to Karak Kadrin. And you’ll stay there until relieved, or until every last orc and gobbo is dead.. or until you are. Do you understand?”

The Longbeard nodded, quietly. Indeed he did understand. If they couldn’t hold the pass, there would be little to stop the hated foe from marching on Karak Kadrin itself…

* * *

While the Orcs and Gobbos complained at the gruelling forced march, Boo quite liked it: his long troll legs made easy work of the pace.

“Will der be stunties?” he asked of the orc beside him. The orc sighed in frustration: he had answered this question a hundred times today. But it was never wise to tell a troll to shut up.

“Yes, lots o’ stunties.”

Boo smiled. Stunties! He had enjoyed playing with the stunties. They made funny noises when pounded with a club, or stomped in the ground. They tasted good too, even if their beards got stuck between his ragged teeth. But they were fragile, and their parts came off easily when he pulled. His last one had broken yesterday.

Just then, a shout went up from the greenskin horde: the Dwarves had turned to fight. Boo let out a roar too, and quickened his pace. Stunt!

Battle of da Hills Before da Even Bigga Hills

Following my victory on the Plains of the Dark Lands, the campaign shifted to the eastern foothills of the World’s Edge Mountains. There a new Dwarf Army awaited me, under General Karn Steelaxe–brother of the recently-slain Nark Steelaxe.

For this game, we choose three hills and a couple of (impassable) rocky outcrops to reflect the rougher terrain. The armies were 2400 points. Because my opponent had just splurged on a couple of Grudge Throwers (he does like his artillery!), I let him field them even though he was over his special units quota. On the other hand, having lost his army general in the last battle, we agreed that he would have to field a Thane as general rather than fielding a Lord. Replacements, it seems, are hard to find.

My larger numbers of units gave me the luxury of getting a sense of the stunties’ battle-plans long before I had to commit my own. He had set up a deadly killing ground in the center of the battlefield: Crossbows (20) and Thunderers (20) interspersed with an Organ Gun and Cannon, with supporting Grudge-Throwers on the hills behind. Longbeards (20) and a small unit of Trollslayers anchored his right flank, Ironbreakers and Warriors (20) anchored his right, and one unit of Warriors was held back as a reserve to reinforce the front line if need be.

I had no intention of marching straight into this potential maelstrom of lead and steel. Instead, I deployed all of my primary striking force to my right flank, where they could approach the Dwarven position behind the shelter of a long hill. As usual, my Black Orcs (20+ general), double-choppa-wielding Orc Boyz (35 + battle standard), and “Boo” the Troll would be my primary shock troops, while a largish (10) unit of Goblin Spider Riders, supported by Slarkfug Boarmuncher (a boar-mounted Orc Big Boss), would provide flanking support. By contrast, my intention was to simply hold the center, and harass on the left, knowing the slow movement of the enemy troops would delay any retaliatory blows there. Thus, two small (5) Goblin Spider Riders and a large unit of Night Goblin Spears (40 + 2 fanatics) deployed on the left, and throw-away units of Snotlings (4) and Night Goblin Bows (20) deployed to the center, along with my Spear-Chukka and Rock Lobba. A small unit of Night Goblin Spears (20 + fanatic) provided rearguard protect against any enemy Miners that might appear.

Finally, with a few points to spare, I purchased a low-cost Night Goblin Big Boss, equipped him with Maad’s Map and the Brimstone Bauble, and hid him behind a rock. From there he could harass the enemy, and when he died he would explode and do D6 S6 hits–a Goblin suicide-bomber, of sorts! Hopefully he could take a gun crew with him.

TURN 1

I moved first, and my forces surged forward, anxious to do battle with their Dwarven foes. Well, almost all of my forces surged forward: both Night Goblin units held their blocking positions, and one small unit of Spiders on the left squabbled rather than advance. To make up for this, the larger unit of spiders on my more important right flank decided it wanted to “show ’em” and surged forward even faster. Finally, Bootlegreen Boombottom, the heroic (or foolish) suicide goblin, headed off in search of artillery to detonate.

The Dwarves, seeing a large and angry mass of greenskins bearing down on their right, moved to reinforce that flank: the Warriors and redoubtable Ironbreakers moved forward to meet me, while the Cannon was dwarf-handled to the spur of the hill where it could see my approaching troops. A lone Dragonslayer provided an escort.The artillery fire on both sides was largely ineffectual, and a few snotlings were wounded by crossbow fire.

TURN 2

The clash of steel was imminent! My General declared a Waaaaaaghh, and our advance hastened. On the left, my troops were almost in striking range, and my Spider Riders moved into a flanking position on his Warriors. The Night Goblin Bow mounted the the hill, moving to within (short!) bow range of the enemy. My Rock Lobba scored a bullseye on the Quarrelers. Finally, my troll charged and engaged his Dragonslayer, clearing the way for Boombottom to move even closer to his intended target. On the far left, the Spider Riders continued their harassing moves.

The Dwarves responded by starting an advance on my left towards my Night Goblin Spear, and further moving to close on the right. the Snotlings were devastated by combined fire from the Organ Gun and Quarrelers. Then again, that’s what they were there for: to die and buy time for their more competent big brothers. The newly redeployed Cannon proved what a danger it could be by blowing away two of my stalwart Black Orcs. One of the Dwarven Grudge-Throwers, however, thankfully self-destructed.

Finally, a unit of Miners showed up on my furthest right flank. This could be a problem if I didn’t burst through the enemy quickly…

TURN 3

With bloodthirsty shouts and a hefty choppa in each hand, my Black Orcs crashed headlong into the unit of Ironbackers. My greenskin leader, Warboss Glarsnot Bloodcurdle, taunted Karn Steelaxe, recounting how his unlucky predecessor had been crushed under a stray Goblin rock just two weeks earlier. The angry Dwarf strode forward, his gleaming magical axe in hand, to revenge his fallen brother in single combat…

..and was killed. You’ve got to love Iron Gnashas and their killing blow ability.

My Orc Boyz weren’t quite within charge range yet–indeed, Hevvythud Raglugger (my Black Orc Standard bearer) had to kill a couple to stop their squabbling and keep them focused on the task at hand. In any case, Slarkfug Boarmuncher wasn’t waiting: the Orcish hero led his mechanical boar and unit of Spider Riders into the flank of the Warriors, hoping to score a quick victory (and prevent them from coming to the aid of the Ironbackers too). Boombottom charged the gun crew, rushing past the Troll and Dragonslayer still locked in combat on the hill. Despite his fervent wish to die a martyr, he killed one of the crew without suffering so much as a scratch.

On the left, the Night Goblin Spears and two Spider Rider units maneuvered to flank the approaching Longbeards. Two fanatics spun off from the latter, and smashed into the approaching Dwarves, devastating the Slayers, who also took casualties from the Spider Rider bows. The Night Goblin Spear were taking heavy casualties from missile and artillery fire, but were in a large enough unit to avoid panic tests so far.

TURN 4

This looked like it might be the decisive phase of the battle: the Warriors were charged by the Orc Boyz and Raglugger with Nogg’s banner of Butchery. The Dwarves quickly broke under the onslaught, and were overrun in pursuit. My triumphant Boyz collected their fallen banner, and whatever else they could loot from the corpses.

The Black Orcs, joined by a flanking group of Night Goblins, broke the Ironbackers, who fled and were cut down too.

Boombottom still couldn’t find his special way to the greenskin afterlife, killing the last of the cannon crew (with help from Boo) rather than detonating.

My rear unit of Night Goblins, relieved of rearguard duties by the earlier arrival of the Miners on the right, squabbled rather than hasten to their new position.The Organ Gun, thankfully, self-destructed (this was not the best of days for Dwarven artillery).

TURN 5

The Dwarven left flank had crumbled. The Orc Boyz reversed direction, and headed off to deal with the pesky miners behind them. The Black Orcs, Spider Riders, Troll, and Night Goblin Bows wheeled to prepare an assault against the nearby crossbows. The reserve unit of Dwarf Warriors moved forward to support them Quarellers, and the Thunderers redeployed to better target the greenskin units on the hill.

On my right, the Night Goblin Spears and Spiders watched with approval as their distant companions on the hill waved Dwarven body parts in triumph. This would show those arrogant Orcs how vital and indespensible Gobbos were to a modern army! With high-pitched squeaky cries, they charged into their own nearby foes..Well, some did. One Spider Rider unit squabbled instead, doubtless arguing over who deserved the greatest credit for the impending massacre.

Sadly, the Longbeards had obviously fought Goblins before. Many times. Indeed, they had fought Goblins back in the day, when Goblins were tough and tall and had three arms and sharp gnashing teeth, not at all like these pesky puny modern excuses for Goblins today’s so-called Dwarf warriors complain about…

It was a slaughter. The Goblins (rolling what appeared to be cursed dice) killed one, while the Dwarves struck back killing eight. This was too much for the rank, rear, and outnumbering bonus to offset: and, the Goblins being Goblins, broke and ran, to the jeers of the pursuing Dwarves.

This was also too much for Boombottom, watching all of this from afar. He charged recklessly down the hill and into the Quarrellers, killed one, died, detonated, and killed several more. Gobbo honour had been redeemed.

TURN 6

The Black Orcs, Troll, and even the Night Goblin Bows all charged into the Quarellers at the base of the hill, crushing them. The ensuing flight of the crossbows caused panic amongst the Warriors, who decided thet they too had best flee to fight another day. The Miners couldn’t stand up to the much larger group of Orc Boyz bearing down on them–and also broke and ran.

Only the Thunderers and Longbeards were in any position to retire in good order. Clearly, the greenskin onslaught wouldn’t be stopped today. Perhaps if they withdrew to Peak Pass it might be possible to throw back the invading hordes before they reached the Dwarven strongold of Karak Kadrin…