Summer 992 - The Battle of Duffer's Bluff

The clanging of the shields and weapons reverberated through War-Leader Pagash’s brain. He was beginning to think, maybe finding the unguarded storeroom of Dwarven beer wasn’t so lucky. In fact maybe they had been meant to find it. In fact now he thought about it, the warrior who had found it was rather short and a funny shade of green.

The outnumbered Dwarves deploy with Duffer's Bluff at their back while the Orcs emerge from the woods to attack them.

They jogged towards the dwarves, every step jolting both his head and stomach.

Both armies charged towards each other. The Dwarves thought their only salvation lay in taking the fight to the enemy and crushing them quickly

“Charge”, he groaned. Most of the orcs lurched forward. Off to his good hitting hand-side he saw the unit lead by Uggran Gutwretcher come to a halt, as Uggran lived up to his name, curling up and discharging from every orifice, in a spectacular and messy display.

The Dwarves were right! The enemy general fell wounded and most of the rest ran away.

They clashed into the dwarven line and he raised his shield to ward off an axe. As the axe struck it forced the shield back onto his head and bringing with it sweet oblivion.

With the Orcish general fallen, the Dwarves made short work of the rest and were soon lined  up to tackle the Wolf Riders, the last remaining Orcish unit.

“Did we wi……”, his sentence trailed off, as he looked at the bedraggled band of orcs gathered around him. This was going to need all of Pug Mangleson’s wordskills to make this one sound good. Maybe he’d better kill a few of his rivals as they were recovering, he thought, as he got to his feet and felt for his dagger.

Steve had really poor luck in this game. His general fell early in the conflict and his Orcs really did not want to close with the Dwarves at all. The war will continue in the Autumn.