Battle Report: The Bridge Over the River Chai - Turn 1

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Prologue 

Meet The Contestants

Rules and Deployment

Turn 1 (you are here)

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Turn 7

Turn 8

Turn 9

Turn 10

Epilogue

Turn 1

Righto - we're away! Thantsants and Airbornegrove have said gentlemanly things to each other, issued some sort of virtual handshake under the stern virtual gaze of Dreamfish, the games master, which leaves nothing other then the business of describing the decidedly ungentlemanly acts that ensued.

These are they.

Again, because there are orcs on the table, of course, the thing we are faced with is animosity. I love animosity. You love animosity. Airbornegrove loves animosity. Thantsants... well, I think he might have a love-hate thing going right now with animosity. With more than half of the main combat units in his line failing animosity before they'd even moved, let us suggest that hate is the waxing emotion, with love distinctly waning.

Also, don't forget that the chariot is GM controlled, so all of the 'involuntary' movement is handled before any other movement. Fortunately for all involved, the chariot careens down the ramp, straight into the middle of the table.

So, catastrophe's determined - turn 1 started like this:

The turn starts like this

Movement Phase

Thantsants moved those troops he had control over (that is, the dark elves...), whilst Airbornegrove enjoyed complete freedom of choice with his many and varied units. The Giant started wading across the river, whilst the gyrocopter pilot gunned the engine and drove the device into the air, becoming the first dwarf on the other side of the river.

Curiously, the wood elves elected to leave the chariot to its own devices, choosing instead to capitalise on the vantage point they had over the dark elves by nocking arrows to their bows...

Note the witch elves forming up into column in order to climb the cliff and take the wood elves on at their own level!

Actions

GM:

WL

Moved forward 8"

GF

Suffers animosity @ RGH, wheeled left 3.5"

RLR

Suffers animosity @ RGH, wheeled right 3.5"

CGC

Suffers animosity @ K3C, moved forward 3.5"

SBB

Suffers animosity @ K3C, moved forward 3.5", turned right

Airbornegrove:

I

Moved forward 3"

F

Moved forward 3"

S

Moved forward 3"

MF

Moved forward 3"

MO

Moved forward 3" @ difficult ground

TT

Flyed @ attack level, accl. 8", current speed 8"

KBP1

Wheeled right 4"

Thantsants:

WoP

Turned left, moved forward 2.5" @ difficult ground

SOC

Wheeled left 4"

MB

Moved forward 2" @ KBP1

SQC

Wheeled left 4"

RGH

Moved forward 6"

W

Moved forward 5"

K3C

Moved forward 3.5"

KYP

Moved forward 3.5"

***

"Nah, I still don't get it. Tell me again - why's they got it in for Rogaine?"

Exlax sighed as he looked over at Immodeyum. "C'mon, orc - how many times I gots to tell ya?"

"Look, I don't understand, okay? It sounded complicated."

"Well it ain't. It's like this -"

"Hang on,boys. Let's just stack these bolts up first and get the thrower in place," Prunjus said, waving his hands at the other two. They were new to his crew, so they hadn't really Had Their Jobs Explained To Them.

"We'll get it done in a minute," Exlax grumbled.

"No. We'll do it now. The reason how come the last two I had is gone an' I've been lumbered with you two is 'cos Rogaine Explained Their Jobs To Them so hard they died. Now I ain't gonna miss 'em, an' I ain't gonna miss you, but I ain't Having My Job Explained To Me by Rogaine again, see?"

With that firm warning, the crew lumbered the warmachine into place and readied it to fire. Almost on queue, Rogaine's powerful voice echoed across the valley below as he instructed the orc line to advance. In the distance, Prunjus and the boys could see elves descending into the valley, chasing a chariot being driven so fast it was hard to think of it as being under control.

"Rioght - back to Rogaine now," Exlax said, leaning up against the bolt thrower. The crew looked down and watched as the orc line began the advance, before slowly starting to collapse in on itself.

"Bleedin' 'ell," Immodeyum muttered, watching with fascination as each unit flanking Rogaine's cavalry started folding in on him, their insults reverberating off the valley walls. "I knew they was upset, but they ain't even started yet!"

"How come? Tell me, orc - what's goin' on?" Exlax whined.

Immodeyum held up his hands in a placating manner. "Now I don't know this, right - it's all just rumours and some such, okay? You didn't hear none of it from me-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Exlax huffed impatiently. "Come on, orc - spill the beans!"

"So Gaversconne's been wanton' to take over from Rogaine for a while, right?"

"Right," nodded Exlax.

"And it turns out, that sneaky young Gaversconne's been seein' Rogaine's lady."

"He ain't got a lady?"

"Damn right she ain't a lady. Anyhow, Rogaine don't know it, cos if he did, Gaversconne'd-"

"What - like a real girl?" Exlax asked, his eyes wide open.

"Yeah," said Immodeyum. "Like a real girl. Try an' keep up, okay?"

"So's anyway, Gaversconne's no doubt been trying to get 'is Fireguts to get all angry about Rogaine, which is wots happening down there, see?" Immodeyum pointed at the black orcs, who had wheeled about to face Rogaine's unit's flank.

"They look angry," Exlax said.

"They is. Apparently - remember, all rumours, an' not from me, right - he's told them Rogaine ain't no proper back orc 'cos he hangs out with regular orcs like them wots on the boars, right? Gaversconne reckons Rogaine should be headin' up black orcs. 'Course, he's worked out that's what he does, so he can't have that neither, right?"

Exlax had a pained expression on his face. "Er...right?" He scrunched up his face as he considered this last sentence. "Actually, not right. Who can't have wot neither?"

Immodyum shook his head. "Gaversconne can't have Rogaine trying to take over the Fireguts, right? Cos that's what Gaversconne does. What would Gaversconne do if Rogaine led his boys?"

"I should imagine he'd like a break, really - maybe a bit of a holiday? I sure could do with a holiday."

"Yeah? You ever see a black orc take a holiday-"

"Sorry to interrupt, boys, but we'd better get on and shoot smoothing," Prunjus said, handing a bolt over to Exlax. "Otherwise the only holiday youse two is gonna see is when yer heads get to take a break from yer bodies courtesy of me."

"Fine, fine," mumbled Exlax, racking up the bolt. "What should we shoot?"

"Don't care," Prunjus grunted, setting himself onto the floor. He doffed his helmet over his eyes, reclined against a rock and said: "I don't care what you shoot, as long as you shoot something, okay? Every now and then, you shoot something. Wake me up if you have problems."

Exlax raised an eyebrow to Immodeyum. Immodeyum shrugged.

"Lets shoot that flying thing," he suggested.

Exlax nodded. Together, they wheeled the machine around, pointing it more or less where they anticipated the dwarves flying contraption to be, before releasing the bolt.

"That was an awful shot," Immodyum chuckled, watching the bolt sail into the trees on the other side of the valley.

"Don't matter," Exlax said. "Okay, so Gaversconne's riled up his boys to 'ave a go at Rogaine, right?"

"Yer, that's it."

"Wot about this lot 'ere?" Exlax pointed at the orc archers, who had just fired a volley at Rogaine's gruntas.

"Them lot's got no leader no more, see?"

"Oh, really? How come?"

"He was also seein' Rogaine's lady."

Exlax scrunched his face up again. "Hang on. So Rogaine's got a lady, but that bloke - Gavin or something - " he pointed at the black orcs, "is also sweet with her. But so's this new chap - can't remember 'is name now-"

"Didn't say his name, dope. Don't matter, 'cos he's dead. Rogaine went proper spare when he found out. See this rope we's using for the bolt thrower? That's his guts."

"I wish I could meet Rogaine's lady. She sounds nice."

"Are you listening to me?" Immodeyum barked, tapping his finger on Exlax's forehead. These," he brandished the rope under the nose of the other orc, "are his guts!"

Exlax blinked, the rope so close to his face he was struggling to focus on it. A long silence followed.

Eventually, Exlax moved the rope away from his face. Immodeyum nodded, glad that the other orc understood.

Exlax looked down at the shouting orcs. Eventually, none had elected to attack Rogaine and his boys. His eyes drifted to the black orcs. Gaversconne was cheerfully hurling insults left, right and centre.

"Tells ya wot, though," he said. "That Gavin bloke don't look half bad fer someone who ain't got no guts no mo- OW! Whaddidja hit me for!"

***

Shooting Phase

Shooting was fantastic and bloody. Guns, arrows, stones - every level of tech was involved. In the end, it was the dark elves who paid. The champions of O-deck, fine marines every one of them, were gunned down to
a manan elf. In spite of these terrible losses, Seaman Sprayes elected to remain on the field, proving his valour, bravery and considerable confusion are second to none.

Actions

Airbornegrove:

KBP1

Shot @ SOC, killed 3

KBP2

Shot @ SOC, killed 1

BT

Shot @ SOC, killed 2

E

Shot @ SOC, killed 9

A1C

Shot @ RGH, killed 1

C

Shot @ RLR, killed 3, +1 heat point

Thantsants:

RLR

Shot @ RGH, killed 0

CGC

Shot @ K3C, killed 0

***

"I can't believe he made him a seaman!"

Seaman Sprayes, hearing the hushed whispers, held up his hand.

"Company Halt!"

The dark elves, drilled to perfection by the recently deposed Gimiya Hanjohb, stopped dead and stood to attention.

Sprayes looked at Gimiya. "They're talking about me again."

Gimiya sighed. "So take control. You are the commanding officer, aren't you?"

"Righto, I bloody well will-"

"Perhaps," Gimiya said, gripping Sprayes by the arm, "we should first consider the position we're in? Whilst it's not for me to question your judgement, you have called us to a halt at the bottom of a cliff crested by armed elves who appear to be planning to shoot us? I think we should spread out."

Sprayes offered Gimiya a pained expression.

"Look, I know how it is in the marines - I've got to prove my worth - I get it."

He fixed Gimiya with a withering stare before starting to shout. "So that is what I plan to do! I think there is safety in numbers! My orders are to huddle closer together! Use our shields to defend ourselves!"

Seaman Sprayes held his hand up again.

"Company ...er... HUDDLE!"

Gimiya's jaw dropped. "Sir? Sprayes? Seriously? Huddle?"

The elves, not entirely sure what to do, all shuffled a little closer, allowing their shoulder plates to clink against each other encouragingly.

They looked at Gimiya, who shook his head.

They looked at Seaman Sprayes, who nodded his head.

Gimiya dejectedly pointed up to the sky.

"Shields! Up Shields! On Top! Y'know!" Seaman Sprayes screeched and waved, as he watched the cloud of arrows driving through the sky towards his spearmen.

The spearelves looked at each other. "Up shields?" once mouthed at another, just before an arrow punctured his neck.

The sudden cries of other elves suggested that the last order was not well understood. Three elves collapsed with arrows extended from their bodies.

"I'm telling you, Sprayes, we need to spread out!" Gimiya spat.

"And I'm telling you, Gimiya, we need to huddle up!"

Sprayes turned to face the unit.

"All of you! Listen to me! You need to huddle as close to each other as possible, okay? Nobody panic, I know what I'm doing!"

He watched as the spearmen squeezed themselves as close as their armour would allow, nodding his approval. "That's right. That's right. Nice and tight!"

Gimiya's eyes were daggers as he stared at Sprayes.

"You too, Gimiya - get in there!"

Gimiya wedged himself against his peers, who shuffled apart a little to allow him in.

"Now - shields up!" Sprayes yelled.

Gimiya Hanjohb raised his shield half heartedly. The others followed suit.

"Now you're getting it!" Sprayes yelled.

And get it, they did.

Sprayes jumped in terror as the unit - his unit - having finally followed orders, were suddenly eviscerated by a great boulder.

"Oshitoshitoshit!" he squeaked, pointing at the rock in a futile gesture whilst holding his other hand over his mouth.

Having huddled so close together, the stone had all but flattened the elves in the centre. The outer elves had all been pushed outwards by the impact and now lay face down, facing all the directions of the compass, like a newly opened flower.

"Oshitoshitoshit!" he squeaked again, looking around. Where the hell did that come from?

Suddenly, he heard Gimiya groan. Looking down, he recognised his antagonistic adviser. "Gimiya! Gimiya! Get up! Get the men back in line!"

Seeing nothing happen apart from some groaning on Gimiya's behalf, Sprayes took it on himself to try to lift Gimiya up, positioning him so that he was on his knees. his back rested against the boulder. Sprayes could do no better - both of Gimiya's lower limbs were trapped by the stone.

"Oshitoshitoshit!" Sprayes gulped.

"You're telling me," Gimiya coughed, blood running from his broad grin. "At least we huddled together, eh? Shields up and all that-"

"Shut up! Can you walk? We need to get these men back on their feet!"

Gimiya's chest rattled as he coughed up his laughter. "I hate you," he muttered, before falling flat on his face, dead.

"Oshitoshitoshit!"

Sprayes ran around the stone, shaking the various elves.

All dead.

What would-

"Everything alright there, Sprayes?" Master B'tor yelled from his cold one.

"Sir! Yes Sir! Just trying to restore some order to the unit Sir! - On your feet, you mangy lot!" - this last directed at the hitherto breathing elves.

Master B'tor didn't stop, but spurred his cold one on past the squashed corpses. "They're all dead, Sprayes. Which is an awful pity, because I had high hopes for you and these marines. I fully expect you to avenge each and every one of these elves, okay? So, please find something useful to do before I kill you, hmm?"

Sprayes saluted the departing form of Master B'tor and his cold one, before issuing a vicious kick to Gimiya's head.

"Now look what you've gone and done! Bloody quitter!"

***

Reserves Phase

If you're new to 3rd edition, then you won't have heard of the reserves phase before. This was how march moves worked before they became march moves in later editions of Warhammer. essentially, any unengaged troops more than 4" away from the enemy are able to make another move. So everyone moved again. The witch elves, being engaged in the difficult business of climbing the cliff, are not eligible for a reserve move.

Perhaps the most interesting thing was Wineghum, the sneaky goblin shaman, goading his giant spider into spell casting range. By doing so, he also sneakily positioned himself between the black orcs and the boar riders, possibly limiting the impacts of animosity - always nice to see teamwork, Wineghum!

Actions

Airbornegrove:

I

Moved forward 3"

F

Moved forward 3"

S

Moved forward 3"

MF

Moved forward 3"

Thantsants:

SOC

Moved forward 2"

W

Moved forward 5" @ RGH right flank

Magic Phase

Long has it been the lament of Dreamfish and myself that the magic phases of our reports have been nothing other than honorary mentions.

But no longer!

Wineghum, that empathic, caring, There's-No-I-In-Team-And-Besides-Why-Can't-We-All-Just-Get-Along-And-Kill-Them-Together-We're-All-Green-In-The-End-Right goblin shaman, cast a spell called Mystic Mist.

Now the spell pretty much does what it says on the tin. It makes a mist, which, coming out of nowhere, one might consider to be 'mystical'.

That's what it does.

No one blew up.

No one was disintegrated.

No one had to make initiative tests or be sucked into some cross-dimensional beast's maw.

All that happened was that the dwarf warmachines, previously having enjoyed a pleasant and clear day, were now surrounded by fog. Of course, fog does cause problems with seeing things, which will make it harder for the warmachine crews to find targets.

But whilst I say 'all that happened' as if to minimise and diminish the event, allow me to pause and magnify the event! For, what you have seen here, is a tactical spell! Games workshop stopped producing tactical spells from Warhammer 4 onwards. Curious, because I think they could sell some Games-Workshop Cotton Wool (tm) especially for use with tactical spells that involve mist or smoke. Oh well...perhaps in Warhammer 9.

The other interesting thing with Mystic Mist is that it lasts 1D3 turns. Now that we have a games master, that particular dice-roll was made in secret, meaning that only Dreamfish actually knows how long the mist is there for - neither Thantsants nor Airbornegrove can 'bank' on their awareness of how long it might last - because they don't know!

Actions

GM:

Magic Mist

Rolled 1D3 dice in secret

Thantsants:

W

Casted Magic Mist @ Baggage Area

So - Turn 1 was bloody.

Turn 2 is insane...

Battle Navigator

Prologue
Meet The Contestants
Rules and Deployment
Turn 1 (you are here)
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Epilogue

Terror of the Lichemaster's Price!

No.

It wasn't me.

Next time :(

Eurostar: Travel Direct to Brussels, Lille, Realm of Chaos and Paris.

Is it just me, or is France actually the Realm of Chaos?

So why is it called Warhammer For Adults anyway?

I'm feeling a bit ranty today. I've had a cold for two weeks now and frankly, I'd cheerfully microwave a rhinoceros and swallow the remains whole if I thought it would help.

Also, we're not yet done with the first turn of the Bridge Over the River Chai. Which is probably what you actually came here hoping to see. Soon, pet.

Soon.

So, I thought I'd have a rant instead.

When I started the blog, I had a page describing my reasons for the name, which were also largely my reasons for engaging my time machine and heading back to the eighties for some decent wargaming.

Then, one day, I read through the thing again and I found it to be, well, quite angry. It was written just after the most unsatisfying game of Warhammer I'd ever played. I unpublished the page, with a view to coming back and revisiting the thing at some time.

Consider the thing revisited. 

If you're deeply suspicious of hyperlinks, you can also follow the navigation on the top left of the page. That's also a hyperlink, but it has a different name, so maybe that's better for you.

Battle Report: The Bridge Over the River Chai - The Rules of the Game

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Prologue 

Meet The Contestants

Rules and Deployment (you are here)

Turn 1

Turn 2

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Epilogue

The Gaming Set-up

The game will be played out on a 4' by 6' table, which is depicted below.

Scenario

The Percolator is carried in a small chest which is being transported in an elven warwain (a four horse chariot). The Wood Elf contingent has been tasked with protecting the warwain and the Percolator. The Wood Elves are descending into the Chai valley from the north. The chariot is not present in the Wood Elf army list, as this is a GM controlled unit - see the Rules below.

The Dwarves are waiting for the elves on the southern side of the river Chai and have set up camp. Of course, the Dwarves are here to collect the Percolator from the elves. Remember that Dwarves and Elves are uneasy bed-fellows (except, of course, for the ill-fated lovers Fasten Luuhs and Testo Sterone!). Players are reminded that Dwarves suffer Animosity towards Elves and that Elven characters may never join Dwarf units. In spite of their racial differences, the Elven contingent will require all the help they can get to transfer the Percolator to the Dwarves.

The Orcs and the Dark Elves have elected to separate their contingent commands and try to close in on the Percolator in a pincer movement as it crosses the valley. The Dark Elves approach form the west, with the orcs approaching from the east.

Although the overall purpose of the fight is to secure the Percolator, players are advised to take not of the victory conditions - the holder of the Percolator can still lose the battle! Capturing the Percolator whilst maintaining battlefield superiority is the key to overcoming the enemy in this scenario.

Rules

The game will be played using the Warhammer Fantasy Battles 3rd edition rules, and these House Rules. A GM helps the players interpreting or even making up rules if they are needed. ¹

Chariot: The chariot transports the Percolator and is a GM controlled unit. The chariot type is heavy, equipped with scythed wheels, counts as having no crew and is running amok. All normal rules apply for the chariot, with the exception that the GM determines all rules concerning damage, direction and capturing of the Percolator. The Percolator can be captured by a character in base-to-base contact with the chariot or at a distance by using magic (like the Move Object spell). The exact rules are determined on the spot.

Percolator: The Percolator holds magical powers for characters who control it. A character can use the Percolator to prepare K'fe, which enhances a characteristic of the character and the unit he's up to 1 point for the duration of one turn. Furthermore, units within 12" of a friendly controller may re-roll the result of a rout or +1 Ld on a rally test. To prepare K'fe, the character and the unit he's with must stay stationary for one turn. A preparing character and the unit he's with, may shoot and/or use magic. Preparation fails when attacked. K'fe must be taken at the start of the following turn and the player declares which characteristic is affected.

Baggage: The Dwarf baggage area holds 500 payment points for mercenary troops. ² This is represented by barrels containing beer. It takes one turn to loot 250 points. Mercenary troops will automatically switch sides when the baggage area is captured. The baggage area is guarded by the War Engine Battery, instead of the normal alloted amount of civilians. The War Engine Battery must be placed inside the baggage area. The War Engine Battery is not taken out of battle, but must stay inside and protect the baggage area. ³

Scenery

• Terrain is split in 6 zones of 2 by 2 feet
• Hill rock faces, river and woods are difficult ground
• River and woods count as soft cover
• Bridges count as hard cover
• Fly over hills and bridges on level +10 and woods on level +20

Objectives

• Common: capture the Percolator; 300 VP
• Common: eliminate opponent's general; 50 VP
• Common: eliminate ally/mercenary commander(s); 50 VP for each commander
• Common: control zones; 50 VP for each controlled zone
• Common: capture unit standards; 50 VP for each captured standard
• Orc: control or destroy bridges; 100 VP for each controlled or destroyed bridge
• Orc: capture/loot opponent's baggage; 50 VP when being looted or 100 VP when captured at end of game
• Dwarf: prevent bridges from being destroyed; 100 VP for each controlled and undamaged bridge

Deployment

Below a strategical overview of the battlefield and the available deployment zones. Some of the unit deployments are predetermined by the scenario and cannot be altered. The following conditions apply:

• The Dwarfs start the game
• The Orc Man Manger is operational at the start of turn 2

---

1. Although it is possible to fight a game without a Gamesmaster, it will be much quicker and far easier to fight with the aid of an impartial Gamesmaster (usually abbreviated to GM), see WFB3, p. 35^↩

2. The points are used for mercenary payment, see WA, p. 125^↩

3. Normally units deployed within the baggage area are taken out of battle, see WFB3, p. 103^↩

Battle Navigator

Prologue 

Meet The Contestants

Rules and Deployment (you are here)

Turn 1

Turn 2

Turn 3

Turn 4

Turn 5

Turn 6

Turn 7

Turn 8

Turn 9

Turn 10

Epilogue

The Bridge over the River Chai: Meet The Contestants!

Battle Navigator

Prologue
Meet The Contestants (you are here)
Rules and Deployment
Turn 1
Turn 2
Turn 3
Turn 4
Turn 5
Turn 6
Turn 7
Turn 8
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Turn 10
Epilogue

Righto. Broadly speaking, we know some elves and some dwarves are about to come into conflict with some elves and some orcs. Time to meet the contestants!

The Gaming Line-up

The game is played remotely by four members of the Oldhammer Community. The participants have never met in person and all aspects of the game are processed through the internet. The tasks involved in running a Remote Game are divided among two players, a writer and a gamesmaster. The separation of tasks allows the GM to collaborate with the writer without exposing sensitive information to the players. The GM is simultaneously the host of the game. The host owns and arranges the gaming table and miniatures used within the game.

What follows are the profiles of the four participants.

Gamesmaster: Dreamfish

21st Century Warhammer 3 Stats:

• Won: 1
• Drawn: 0
• Lost: 0

Location:

Assendelft, Netherlands

Gaming Experience:

Started playing and collecting Warhammer 3rd edition in the late 80's and progressed up through 7th edition. He has mostly been collecting and painting and never actually owned a board and scenery, up until recently. Dreamfish enjoys gaming, but finds the experimental nature of Remote Gaming and his role as Gamesmaster very rewarding.

Armies:

1. Dwarfs
2. Dark Elves
3. Wood Elves
4. Orcs & Goblins

Other Interests:

Games of all sorts, science & technology, martial arts, hiking and indigenous cultures...

Player A: Thantsants

21st Century Warhammer 3 Stats:

• Won: 0
• Drawn: 0
• Lost: 0

Location:

York, England

Gaming Experience:

Started gaming with Heroquest in the early 90's and moved onto Rogue Trader and WFB 3rd ed. at secondary school. After a long gap of some 15 years or so he has since played several solo games of 3rd and 2nd ed., dabbled in the skirmish games, Skulldred and Havoc and run the Orc's Drift campaign. Games on the "to play" list - Warmaster, Mighty Empires and Man O War...

Armies:

1. Hordes of Goblinoids, Undead, Chaos and Dark Elves
2. Wood Elf, Empire, Bretonnian and Dwarf forces to oppose them
3. Slaan, Amazon, Norse and (original!) Lizardman Warbands
4. Various Warmaster forces along
5. Dwarf, Orc and Dark Elf Man o' War fleets

Other Interests:

His two Labradors (one Chocolate and one Black), Fighting Fantasy gamebooks, clay Pigeon shooting, hill walking and general outdoors-y things, the Lake District, cake and the finest wines known to man...

Player B: Airbornegrove26

21st Century Warhammer 3 Stats:

• Won: 0
• Drawn: 0
• Lost: 0

Location:

Illinois, USA

Gaming Experience:

I have been around war gaming my whole life. My father is big into historical gaming so have played various ACW, WW2, Napoleonics. I have always loved Warhammer but never actually played it much. Totally missed 3E. My Warhammer experience started in 5th grade when I bought issue 160. So mostly grew up on 4E. Really wanted to get into it though after reading most of your blogs. So thanks for the inspiration.

Armies:

1. Empire
2. Chaos
3. Various small warbands

Other Interests:

Well besides helping run the family business. I weight train, paint as much as possible, search for old figures on ebay, and lets not forget Diablo 3.

Writer: Gaj (Me!)

21st Century Warhammer 3 Stats:

• Won: 1
• Drawn: 0
• Lost: 1

Location:

Nomansland (Wiltshire), England

Gaming Experience:

Started playing D&D in the late 80's and Warhammer in the early 90's, just catching the end of 3rd edition. Progressed all through until 8th edition, before electing to return to the 3rd edition. Gaj has started selling and trading his later edition armies to build up classic 3rd edition armies.

Armies:

1. Undead - target: Terror of the Lichemaster
2. Orcs & Goblins - target: Forenrond's Last Stand
3. Chaos - target: Realms of Chaos
4. High Elves - every player probably should have at least one 'good' army...

Other Interests:

eBay - grade 'A' addict. Games of all sorts. Board games, card games, drinking games, psychological games, video games...

Geographic Locations

As before, we have ourselves another old world vs. new world match up! Is this the opportunity for the US to claw back a draw, or can the UK once again overcome the Goliath of the west? In this match up, we have Illinois, ably represented by Airbornegrove26 vs. (the original) York, represented by Thantsants. You might have heard of him before. 

The Armies

Orcs & Goblins - DA Swedicine Purfurds

Thantsants takes the task of leading the Goblinoid horde and their evil Dark Elf allies to capture the Percolator.

Dwarfs - Ironbeard's Conquerors

Airbornegrove26 takes the honorable task of leading the meeting between the Dwarfs and their Wood Elf allies to safe guard the Percolator.

So there you have it. We just need to publish the scenario and rules and whatnot, and then we're off!

Battle Navigator

Prologue
Meet The Contestants (you are here)
Rules and Deployment
Turn 1
Turn 2
Turn 3
Turn 4
Turn 5
Turn 6
Turn 7
Turn 8
Turn 9
Turn 10
Epilogue

Battle Report: The Bridge over the River Chai

Of course, when a blog is not updated for a while, people might sometimes suspect that the proprietor of said blog might be idle.

We've been doing this for a while, so I have no doubt that no such thoughts may have occurred to you about me. Other bloggers are idle. I just have lots of 'work in progress'...

Still, we finally reach a place where one of those works in progress has reached fruition: our next remote battle report. Our next one, I hear you ask? That suggests previous ones, doesn't it? It does indeed, astute reader. It does indeed. If you are new to our internet shenanigans, then you might be interested in the events at the Wyemm Seeyay, or at Koles Lorr. Very important, those, because those old enough to remember Wyemm Seeyay might recognise some of the very same heroes and villains from that report in this one. 

As always, we need to set the scene. 

Lets have a prologue:

"What do you mean 'pregnant'?"

King Domcome slowly creaked forward, fixing Lady Fasten Luuhs with his withering stare. Seventy dwarves formed the court of the king and seventy dwarves now followed the king's stare at the cause of the king's question.

"Pregnant! You know what pregnant means! There's a baby in here," Lady Luuhs barked whilst patting her belly. "And you heard the rest as well – the baby is his!"

The assembled court of dwarves gasped in unison as Lady Luuhs pointed a damning finger at a dishevelled elf, his fragile body wrapped in chains and his head resting on the executioner's block. Seventy pairs of dwarf eyes returned to the original objective of this court session: the execution of an elven spy.

He was making furious shushing noises whilst he frantically shook his head.

"Haha," he squeaked, his voice strained. "She's such a kidder, ain't she?"

"Shutup!" hissed the executioner, thumping his leathered fist down on the back of the elf's head.

As one, the dwarf heads swivelled back towards the king.

"So you mean to say that not only was this... thing caught spying in your chamber, you're telling me that it forced itself on you and you now carry its child?"

The dwarven court exploded in outrage. Dwarves tore at their beards and clothes, whilst others pelted the elf with semi-precious stones and any other bits of rubbish they had on their persons.

"Hoo boy," whispered the executioner. "Before, we were just gonna execute you, but now you've gone and done it..."

"I've gone and done it?" The elf squealed in indignation. "She's the one that's gone and done it! My dad warned me about bloody dwarves! Ow!" He winced as a piece of lupus lazuli bounced off his head.

The court slowly became aware of Lady Luuhs standing in the centre of the room, with her arms raised.

"WILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP FOR A MINUTE?" she yelled.

Dwarves, caught in mid throw, stopped and stared. One, unable to contain the momentum, toppled over, the sudden silence magnifying his crash to bomb-like proportions.

"He is NOT a rapist. He is NOT a spy!" Lady Luuhs glared at the court, daring anyone to make eye contact with her. She turned and faced the king. "He is my lover! Willingly did I share my bed with him! He is MY elf, and I love him! He is the father to MY child... AND I FORBID YOU TO KILL HIM!" She had crossed the floor whilst shouting and now stood nose to nose with the king, poking him in the chest with each word she yelled.

King Domcome stared at Lady Luuhs, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Silence pounded in the room, the atmosphere drenched with tension.

The king looked at the elf. "I don't believe you. It's just a phase. You can't love that."

"I can and I do!"

"He's got no beard!"

"I know! It's wonderful! His kisses are so sweet and tender!"

"He's got no belly!"

She looked up dreamily. "He is slender and muscular and so easy to grip!"

"He can't drink beer!"

"I know, but he drinks wine. Deep, red wine, passion made physical! Wine distilled in the unquenched desires of-"

The king's eyes grew wide as he interrupted. "He's got POINTY EARS!"

She sighed. "Oh uncle, I could nibble on his ears all day-"

"ENOUGH!"

Lady Luuhs backed away terrified as the king launched himself to his feet, flecks of spittle leaping from his lips.

"What about poor Sirrell Tonjon?" The king thrust his finger in the direction of a small, nervous little dwarf. "The dwarf you've been promised to? Are you saying that you've turned your back on this fine specimen of dwarven youth in order to carouse with THAT HIDEOUS THING THERE?"

"Sirrell Tonjon? That dwarf there?" Lady Luuhs pointed at the unfortunate dwarf, who appeared to be willing the floor to swallow him up. "Let me tell you about Sirrell Tonjon, uncle. Sirrell Tonjon is gay! He's the gayest dwarf in this whole bloody mountain range – there are none gayer than him!" She flashed her eyes at Sirrell before leaning in to close eye contact with the King again.

"Gay? He might have been gay once - I'm sure he was the happiest dwarf in all the kingdom when you were promised to him, but look at him now – you've destroyed any chance of him ever being gay again. Look at him! He's furious!

The king spun around, searching out Sirrell in the crowd. Lady Luuhs cocked her head to once side.

"Well?" barked the king.

"Er..." Sirrell mumbled. His eyes grew wide as he watched the king crack his knuckles. "Er...yes. Furious! Furious! Totally and royally peeved! I mean...well...just...y'know. Angry. Grrr." He looked down at his shoes.

"That it? Take your time son, we're all right behind you!" The king looked at Sirrell, his eyes suddenly tender.

"Er...that's it for now. Definitely need time to... digest the news. Grrr. Raargh. Fuming, I am. Just all fumey!"

King Domcome patted Sirrell tenderly on the shoulder whilst glaring at Lady Luuhs. "Look at this poor boy. He'll have to go and become a slayer now. Think of him, having to find his justice in those dark corridors as he hunts down trolls and giants, seeking out a lonesome and painful death deep below the earth to atone for the shame you've brought down on him today!"

Sirrell gulped. "Slayer? Me?"

Lady Luuhs snorted. "Slayer? Him?"

Seventy other dwarves whispered. "Slayer? Sirrell?"

The king looked around the room. "How else will he have justice? Although she has brought shame on this clan she hasn't broken any laws. Unlike the elf over there."

"Let him execute the elf!" someone shouted.

"Ooooh" went the crowd. That sounded like justice.

"Give him the elf!" another cry went out.

Soon, the court were stomping the feet and chanting "Give him the elf!" Give him the elf!"

The king raised his arms, bringing silence to the room.

"This is a good suggestion. Let the wronged groom wield the axe that severs the head of the elf from its scrawny body. What do you say, m'boy?"

Sirrell was painfully aware of the eyes on him. In a way, he owed the elf a debt of gratitude, now that he didn't have to marry Lady Luuhs. He looked up at the elf, taking in the wild eyes and hair. Sweat running down his body. Steam was rising from his muscular shoulders, causing condensation on the chains. Delicate hands. Hazel eyes. Torn breeches-

"Sirrell? Sirrell?" King Domcome shook him by the shoulders. "Come back to us, lad. You're panting. That rage must be burning up in you. You can go up there and take that axe right now-"

"NO!" Lady Luuhs cried.

"NO!" Sirrell cried.

"N-no?" The king raised an eyebrow.

"No," Sirrell replied, still staring at the elf. "Bring him to my room first. Just like that, in chains and all. I want to... um... punish him."

The king nodded slowly. "Dark, indeed, is your rage. Of course, as dwarves, we observe respect of our enemy and only use torture when necessary." He looked over at the elf. "In this case, I deem it sound for you to bring this elf to within an inch of his life. You'll have to say a few Hail Fairy's once you're done, though."

"Hail Fairy? I can do that," Sirrell said.

"What?" started Lady Luuhs. "The only inch of life my poor elf is going to see tonight is when Sirrell rams his-"

"TAKE HER AWAY!" yelled the king.

***

King Domcome shivered as the downdraft of the dragon's wings sent freezing gusts of mountain air deep into his neck and joints. He groaned as he stood up, brushing the snow from his cloak.

"Thanks for coming," he called out, once the dragon had settled. "It's been a while."

The king watched as the slender silhouette of the elf lord materialised into detail in the greyness of the mountain fog. At first impassive, his pinched face broke into a broad grin as he dropped to one knee and spread his arms wide. The two figures hugged, armour clinking against armour as they patted each other on the back.

"My pleasure, Conker. I was amazed that you called. Besides, it's been a nice flight. Always nice to go away from home. A bit like the old days, really. Although then, we didn't ride the dragons..."

The dwarf grinned. "Conker. Ain't heard that one in a while. Yep, sometimes I still wish we were out on the road, or in them dungeons again. Stuff was simple then."

The two swept some snow off a flattish stone, before setting down next to each other.

Lord Zinladyz, as the elf was known elsewhere, looked at the dwarf with concern on his face. "I got your message." He held up an enchanted jawbone. "These iBones are incredible, actually. Although mine's run out of mana at the moment."

The dwarf nodded. "Yeah, I get that all the time. It's because of the blue tooth." He produced his own iBone, indicating the vacant spot where a tooth had once been. "That blue glow really chews up the mana. Take it out, you don't need it."

"I'll keep that in mind. But back to the message – what's been troubling our old Conker, eh?"

King Domcome leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "Well, it's like this." The elf listened patiently as the dwarf described the situation, nodding as he began to grasp hold of the unfolding events.

"...and now she's pregnant. I mean, it's not a crime, really. It'll mess things up with the Tonjon family and there'll be all sorts of repercussions there, but I can't actually prosecute anyone, because no actual crime has been committed. And, as much as I wanted for her to meet a nice dwarf and settle down and such, I understand that love is love. And she really, really seems to love this blood...er... cheeky elf."

Lord Zinladyz nodded. "And, of course, there's this whole gay thing for the Tonjon's to deal with as well. I didn't realise that was such a problem in the dwarven kingdoms."

"What, happiness? Why is everyone so surprised that dwarves can be happy?"

"Well, that's not what...oh. Right. You don't know about... Yeah, you're right. Dwarves can... and should be happy. Let's leave the Tonjon's out of this, I think."

King Domcome nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you. Finally someone else gets it. So back to Lady Luuhs. What do you think we should do with this smitten couple? How would the elves react to this?"

For a while, the two sat silence, the only movement the cloudy breaths they exhaled as they pondered the situation.

Eventually, Lord Zinladyz spoke. "Unfortunately, I think the elves would react much the same way, should the situation be reversed. Unfortunately, not all elves have had the good fortune of adventuring with dwarves such as your good self in their youth, so they're a bit full of shit as well. I'd have to play the game like you're doing. Sucks to be you."

"Yeah, thanks for that."

"But as I think about it, why don't we get them married to each other, arrange for them to have a little cottage or something in one of the human lands, hidden away from elves and dwarves, where they can live their lives out in peace? Formalise the whole thing – you know, arrange a bride price, get them a honeymoon, the whole shebang. Get them out of your hold. Out of sight, out of mind, I've heard some humans say before."

"Hmmm. I dunno. I don't want to condone this sort of thing, you know."

Silence again.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," Lord Zynladyz said, stroking his chin. "I know just the thing to arrange for the bride price. I'll get some of the chaps to drop it off close by. We'll try not to make it too friendly, you know, some appropriate racial animosity, etcetera, etcetera. It should be enough to make it look as if the elves have had to give in a bit and should help to restore the pride of the hold a bit."

"You'd do that? Take the political hit, as it were?"

"For ol' Conker? Any day. Besides, that elf you've got locked up? That's one of Vass Saleen's boys. His operation has been a bit sloppy of late, so it'd be good to light a fire under his... well - derriere."

"That's good of you. I really appreciate that. Thanks."

The two figures stood and shook hands.

"That's my pleasure. Happy to help a friend out. Also, I brought something for you. I bet you don't get much of this down in the mountains."

King Domcome looked up at the elf in awe. "No? Really? White Zinfandel? I don't believe it!"

"Knew you'd like it. Here. I was kind of hoping you might have something to trade for it?" said the elf, playful speculation in his voice.

"I still can't believe you eat this crap, but here you go," said the dwarf, handing over his tins of spam.

The elf shivered in mock anticipation whilst rubbing his hands together. "Lovely! Can't get this stuff anywhere else."

"Anyway," King Domcome said, "I really must get going. Who knows what they've been doing down there whilst I've been away. They'll be bloody marrying goblins next. I'll call you." He waved his iBone at the elf. "Don't forget the blue tooth."

"Catch you later, Conker," called the elf as he revived his slumbering dragon.

King Domcome watched as the shadow of the dragon descended the side of the mountain to be swallowed by the mist.

"I wish they were all like him," he said. "Although, if he got a dwarf pregnant, I'd have to knock his block off as well."

***

"What do you mean 'pregnant'?"

Lord Vass Saleen leaned forward slowly, fixing Lord Zynladyz with a questioning stare.

"Pregnant! You know what pregnant means! He put a baby in a dwarf, no doubt through the repeated thr-"

"They can have babies? Dwarves?"

"Yes. They can, and they do. And, your boy Sterone has achieved the same feat, with the delightful Lady Fasten Luuhs, as I understand it."

"Testo would never do such a thing! I mean, carousing around the forest with dwarves and whatnot. Boy doesn't have it in him."

"Actually, Saleen, so that we're clear. I'm not asking you what Testo Sterone would do. I'm telling you what he has already done. Now I'm going to tell you what you're going to do about it. I have no questions to ask you. Clear?"

"That's a question," Saleen muttered quietly.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Because if I did hear that, I might have raised your harvest tax to fifty percent. Good thing you didn't say anything and I didn't hear anything." Lord Zynladyz calm voice did little to hide the menace of his intent.

"So this is what is going to happen. Testo is going to marry Lady Luuhs and take up his responsibility as father to that child. I've already identified a lovely little place for the two of them to stay, so they'll be well outside of both elven and dwarven lands when the child is born. I think they'll be happy there.

"Part of the deal is that the father's family must pay a bride price. I want you to arrange for a suitable escort of elves to pop down to the bridge over the river Chai, and hand over Percolator. That is the bride price-"

"Percolator?" yelped Vass. "Percolator? Surely not! We need Percolator here!"

"No you don't. You don't even know how to use it properly."

"That's not true. We use Percolator to perk up the morning and evening watches. They're much faster in their reactions with Percolator. It's ancient and incredibly valuable. The little gritsuckers probably couldn't even switch it on! Can't we give them something else?"

Lord Zynladyz sighed. "Look. I'm sorry that the price is so high for your family. Trust me when I say you don't need Percolator. Elves shouldn't need anything like that so it would be good to get your chaps used to not having it around.

"Anyway, I've arranged for the delivery to happen at noon a week today. Get to it!"

Lord Zynladyz turned his back and paced out of the room, leaving Lord Vass Saleen fuming in his throne.

"I'm gonna kill that boy..."

***

Master B'tor steepled his fingers, looking over their elegant fingernails at the hooded elf.

"So you're saying that Percolator will make my raiders faster than ever before, and give them the ability to work through day and night without rest?"

"Yes, Master! Long have the wood elves hidden the secret of Percolator, but they have let slip today that it is to be traded with the dwarves. Naturally, I thought of you first when I heard..."

Master B'tor stroked his elegant chin. "Yes, that was good of you. You are a most faithful spy. Your membership on my crew is all but assured."

"I need my raiders to be as effective as possible. Percolator does sound like just the thing. Even now, I can see their astonished faces in Naggaroth when they ponder our success. My only concern is that I don't have enough elves to snatch it."

"Master – the same doubt crossed my mind. It just so happens that there are a tribe of warrior orcs camped near our anchor. It is well known how violent the orcs are – and very keen to prosecute the dwarves at any opportunity. I realise they are untrustworthy allies, but perhaps, just this once, we could engage them?"

"What's your name again?" Master B'tor asked as he looked deep into the cowl of the spy.

"Sprayes, Master."

"Welcome to my crew, Seaman Sprayes. You have outdone yourself! Head ashore and arrange for us to meet these orcs. We don't have much time!"

***

"So Seaman Squirtz here sez you's got a problem wit' dwarves?"

The elves looked at the monstrous shoulders of Rogaine, the orc captain. His massive frame was covered in scarred skin so deeply green it was almost black. Standing, their eyes were level with his, sitting.

"Sprayes. Seaman Sprayes. Not squirtz."

Rogaine ignored Sprayes, locking his deep-set eyes on Master B'tor. The silence was punctuated by the sound of the waves rolling into the shore.

"That's right," Master B'tor said. "Normally, I have no issue with dwarves, but it just so happens that they are expecting to take delivery of a possession of mine. I want to intercept it before the dwarves make off with it."

"Sure, sure. I got no problems with dwarves either, 'cept when they gots my possessions. Right now they gots my swords and my helmets and my shields and my beer and my gold. I... understand your situation. What do you want me to do?"

"Well, Mister...er, Rogaine. I was hoping you would help us by beating the dwarves into a tiny pulp whilst we retrieved my possessions?"

Rogaine scratched his chin. "What did you lose, anyway?"

"I lost a chest containing a family heirloom. It's about so big." He indicated the dimensions of the chest with his hands.

"Okay, okay. I got time, so lets play the game. What's in the chest?" Rogaine asked in a bored voice.

"I'm not sure you need to know, Mr Rogaine – the deal I'm interested in is simply to pay you to protect us whilst we recover the chest."

The orc captain cocked his head slightly, as if considering Master B'tor in a new light. The orc took a deep breath, releasing the air slowly as he pondered the elf.

"Mister B'tor-"

"Master B'tor," the elf corrected.

"Master B'tor - I dunno how you all do business wherever you come from, but we's making plans to be business partners, right. That means trust. Look – there's only a handful of you here on the beach – there's loadsa boys here. If we wanted you dead, you'd be dead. So you gots to trust us, see?" The orc leaned forward, cracking his knuckles. "See, if I know what's in the box, then I know the risk me and the boys is taking. Probably, whatever's in the box is some crap elf thing I couldn't even fit around my big toe, so its probably safe, okay? So tell me – whats in the box?"

"It's hardly elven crap! It's an ancient elven relic! It is named Percolator and brings with it the power to stay wake for days! " Too late, Master B'tor realised the trap he'd fallen into. He shook his head. "In my line of work, that is a very powerful thing indeed. " How did the orc do that anyway? They were supposed to be as dumb as posts. "Only elves can use it anyway," he added, mumbling into his chest.

Rogaine checked his nails, digging carefully under each one for any possible leftovers.

"I thinks I heard of it before. Makes K'fe, don't it?"

The assembled elves gasped.

"No one has heard of Percolator before. How come you know about it?"

"I never heard of Percolator before. But I been aroun' and I heard of stuff. Like K'fe – gots the same power as wot you jus' said. Must be K'fe, is all. Had some before."

Master B'tor cocked his head. "How do I know you won't want Percolator then?"

"Don't like K'fe. None of the boys do. You can feel it goin' through yer kidneys. Keeps you awake at night, always goin' to the little boys room. Ain't no way to be. Fine, if you lot want it, but we don't want none of it. Besides – like you said, its only for elves, right?" Rogaine winked at the elf.

"Where did you find this K'fe?" Master B'tor asked. "No one knows anything about it!"

"Down in Tilea, I 'spect. They gots a chap... eh, called Barrista or summat like that. Makes it real good, apparently. Cheap too. To be honest, its prolly easier for you lot to just go there."

Seaman Sprayes leaned over and whispered to Master B'tor in elven. "He's just an orc, Master. He has no idea what he's talking about. I mean, Barrista? Really? That's the most made up name I've ever heard."

Master B'tor nodded. "Yeah, probably you're right. I can't believe the stuff is just available to buy."

Rogaine watched the two of them, his face emotionless. "Look. I don't mind you boys discussing in your cute little language an' all, but try not to do it in front of the boys – it's making 'em nervous."

The two elves took in the orc guards standing behind Rogaine. The hulking beasts looked about as nervous as a pack of bulldogs staring at a mouse.

"Er...quite. My apologies, Mister Rogaine. We were just discussing payment options. We were thinking of proposing our entire cargo of beer for you and your men. We've heard that orcs don't have much use for gold."

"No you ain't. You's just hopin' we haven't got much use for gold."

"Um...lets get back to the beer?"

"Elf beer? Thanks, but no thanks. Jus' beery tasting piss, really."

"Oh dear. That is a pity – we take many hundreds of years to brew it."

Rogaine shrugged. "Well, it sounds like you need a few hundred years more. Tells you wot, we'll do the dwarves in for your silver shirt."

Master B'tor looked down at his mail vest. "I'm afraid I can't do that. This is a family heirloom and is absolutely not for trade."

"Another family heirloom? . You weren't born yesterday – everythin's for trade. Look. I know we're orcs an' everyone always goes on talkin' about how thick the orcs are: Blah blah blah. Look at that dumb orc. Walkin' around on his knuckles, howlin' at the moon and drinking his own bathwater. Blah, blah, blah..

"We get that all the time. Thing is, I ain't dumb. I can see you need to get your hands on this Percolator thing. You don't have the men or the equipment, or even know where you're going. Me, on the other hand – I know where to get beer. Way better than that horseshit you're sailing around with. I know where the dwarves are and I got the boys to fix the problem. I can help. For just that shirt? That's cheap, elf. Cheap! So is it a deal?"

"This is Galvorn mail, Rogaine. Galvorn. It is worth more than the boat and the entire crew. Even if you were able to get this, you don't have the tools to change its shape in order to somehow even make this thing fit you, which it won't regardless of what you do with it, because its just too hard. You're right – we're in a pinch, but we're not stupid either!"

Rogaine looked at the elf, a glitter of respect showing in his tiny red eyes.

"S'good. Good to know you gots a line. Can't trust a bloke wit' no line, y'know. Still, we'll do it for the Galvorn. Nothing else."

Master B'tor's eye started twitching. "But it won't fit you! You can't break it apart, or cut it, or reshape it in any way. Its useless to you!"

"Not true. Besides, I don't need to change its shape or anything. Simple story, really: I used to have two gonads, now I got one. I wanna keep it that way for as long as possible. Your silver shirt'll wrap me up nicely, see?"

Master B'tor choked. "W-what? You want to wrap my ancient and incalculably valuable family heirloom around your left testicle? That's what you're asking for?"

For the first time in their meeting, Rogaine grinned. "Now you're getting it."

***

King Domcome watched as Morgrim Ironbeard descended to the courtyard to address his men. It was times like these when he was so grateful that Morgrim had so much experience – especially with the dastardly elves.

"Vass Saleen?" Morgrim has asked. "I heard that name before. It was his lot that we sorted up at Wyemm Seeyay, I think. Didn't realise they still had any appetite for trouble after that."

"I can't begin to imagine what makes the elves tick, Morgrim, old boy, which is what makes them so bloody dangerous. Remember, we're not attacking them unless they try anything funny! All we want is this Percolator thing. Anyway, you know what to do. Meet them at the bridge over the river Chai at noon..."

***

Morgrim beckoned Snorri Oneye over. The other dwarf's smile faded as he saw the look on Morgrim's face.

Morgrim pointed over Snorri's shoulder. "What's that doing in here?"

Snorri turned to look in the direction of Morgrim's gauntleted hand. "Come now, sir! It's not a what, it's a who. We all got the memo about equal opportunity employers, remember? His name's Meedy Ochre. I thought he'd lend us a hand. Bet the elves wouldn't offer any trouble with him on our side, eh?"

Morgrim put his arm over Snorri's shoulder, gently turning the dwarf around and walking him away from the entrance to the hold.

"Snorri, son. You know that we send out hunting parties to kill giants, don't you? You know about Giant Slayers? You know – the really, really angry dwarves? They like to kill giants. Giants like Meedy Ochre. There's a reason we do that. Something to do with them being twenty feet tall and us being four feet tall. Where the did you find him?"

"Er...he came with Nico, over there. They were looking for work."

Morgrim looked over at a small cluster of humans milling around in front of the giant. Their leader nodded to him across the keep.

"So, because they were looking for work, you, filled with the milk of dwarven kindness, elected to bring their poor, weary souls into our keep, so they could rest their aching muscles, after which, we would pay them money to assist us in a cakewalk mission? Do you really think we need the help?"

"He...looked really mean. I just thought he'd help. Besides, they don't want money. They want beer. We've enough of that, right?"

"Ah, so the plot thickens. Your master plan for the security of our hold, our mines, our families and our way of life was to invite a lonely giant and his hanger's on into our home and then beer him up? That sounded like a good idea to you, did it?"

Snorri swallowed. "Um...now that you put it that way..."

"Look. You're a good kid. Leading the Ironaxes is no easy task. Those boys respect you. If you want to get ahead in the army, however, you're going to have to think a little harder, okay? It's not all guns and axes all the time, right?"

Snorri nodded, looking down at his shoes. "Sorry sir."

"We're dwarves, so we've cut a deal, right? We're not like the other races – we mean what we say, so they're hired now. That said, you got a new job – Meedy Ochre and his mates are at the front of the column. You're up next. If anything happens with that giant – it's your problem, okay?"

Snorri brightened suddenly. "Does that mean we can baby sit the beer cart?"

Morgrim patted Snorri on the head, making sure Snorri's bare head felt every clanking jolt of Morgrim's gauntlet.

"Atta boy. That's thinking, see? I like where you're going. Unfortunately, I'm pulling rank on you. Giant's yours. Beer cart's mine. Dismissed."

***

Battle Navigator

Prologue (you are here)

Meet The Contestants

Rules and Deployment

Turn 1

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Epilogue