Spring 993 - The Battle of the Plain Plains

Pagash The Mighty Belcher surveyed the plain plain. Judging distances with giants was always difficult, were they close and not very tall or huge and far away. Still at least they weren’t dwarves, with their trickery and breweries.

With a wave of his hand the archers and dire-wolf riders headed off to harry the giant’s flanks. He planned to wait and then split his forces to attack from either side. Suddenly some Ogre’s charged across the ground towards his dagger hand side. At the same time huge rocks came flying through the air. Fortunately the giants were not very good shots and almost hit their own ogres. Unfortunately Zarg and Gnart decided this was the signal to charge and rushed headlong towards the giants with their units. Pagash shook his head and groaned.

'Betta see if you can hit ‘em.’ Pagash said turning to the Shaman at his side. After much wailing and strangling of goats, a fireball shot towards the giants only to fizz and turn into a shower of toads. 'Well that was a waste of good goats,” thought Pagash. “Might as well get stuck in and dirty.” The remaining Orcs moved towards the giants. It was always difficult hacking at ankles, but they seemed to be doing some damage. His dire-wolf riders had headed off, but had caused some havoc before running.

Suddenly the giants before Pagash broke and ran, as did the ones Zarg and Gnart had attacked. This just left the Queen of the giants and she was in a right regal rage. Wave after wave of orcs broke against her sword, but slowly the damage was being done, until finally she realised the battle was over and ran from the field. Pagash turned to survey the field. They’d won, but there were a lot of squashed orcs out there. Why hadn’t he listened to his father? If only he’d known which one was his father, he might have.

The Mountain Giant army was broken and the Orcs held the field. The Giants returned to their mountain fastnesses to await the next attempt to drive the puny small things from their rightful home.