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Saturday, 30 August 2008

Dwarfs vs High Elves 2000pts

Warhammer Fantasy Battle Report summary:-

Story mode (focusing on a Dwarf engineer and High Elf hero)

source : battlereporter.blogspot.comcredit : Sigmar30-Aug-2008

With effortless skill the Dwarf cleaved a stone in two with a single pick blow. His two compariots heaved the stones into the barrow and wheeled it to the front of the entrenchment.

"Ok, that'll do lads" yelled the master engineer above the quarry-like din. The defences were as complete as they could be in the spare minutes that remained. The dust cloud from the hooves of the High Elven Dragon Princes could be seen on the horizon. Mighty eagles circled the Elven host and sent high pitched cries across the battlefield.

It was time for the Dwarfs to prepare their battle lines and crew their sturdy war machines. The Dwarfs were well prepared for the fight and had occupied a rocky outcrop allowing them to see down on the whole plain beneath them. This was fearsome defensive positon and the bolt throwers, cannon, organ gun and grudge thrower all had hardened dwarf veterans nearby for company. "Death before dishonour" a longbeard shouted. "DEATH BEFORE DISHONOUR" the rest of the Dwarfs boomed in response.

Gurnisson "Beltch Hammer" passed his telescope to his apprentice... "do you see that lad, coming over the rise ?" Gimgum "Soft Thumb" surveyed the Dwarf's right flank. In the distance, beyond the battle plain, he could make out the unmistakable profile of an eagle claw repeater bolt thrower being rolled into place. "That, my lad" spoke Gurnisson, "will be our first target".

Further along the Dwarven battle lines the Dwarf Lord stepped atop his shield and was hoisted aloft by his trusty shield guard. The Lord noted the eerie silence from his own troops. No Slayers had joined the expedition (it had seemed too 'safe' to them) so the usual drunken death threats were not being shouted at the enemy today. Likewise, the enemy seemed near silent, only the neigh of horses and the cry of eagles broke the peace.

The dwarfs were arranged in a castle formation. War machines were placed behind the lines with cannon and grudge thrower on the hill from where they had full view of the whole battlefield.

In contrast to the bunched up Dwarf squares, the High Elves had spread their line more thinly and had adopted an attacking stance. The Elves clearly meant to hit the Dwarf's left flank with Dragon Princes and Eagles and roll up the artillery line, starting with the organ gun. "Well" mused the Dwarf Lord, "they will have to make friends with my Hammerers first won't they !" With that thought, the first elven trumpet was sounded and the High Elf host began it's advance as eagles swooped down from on high.

The gods were favouring the Elves... Finuvir just knew it. The mighty Elven army was well positioned, in close striking distance and outnumbered their foe. Besides, Finuvir with his reaver bow had never been bested before in battle and he didn't expect to be now. The Wood Elves had thrown everything they had at him in his last two battles and still, when the day was done, he had flown into the sunset on Gwindar his mighty war eagle. If his kin-cousins could not defeat him he was certain that no short, fat, ugly, dwarf would. With a tap of Finuvar's heel Gwindar banked left and swooped down, past galloping Dragon Princes, onto the battlefield. Their quarry was the enemy organ gun - a mass of steel death waiting to fire misery into the Elven ranks.

Finuvar was still some distance from the gun when an unexpected bolt pierced the air beneath his mount and all but obliterated the unit of Dragon Princes behind him. Only a single stunned Dragon Prince remained alive, amid the mass of splintered shields, shattered armour, blood and guts. Finuvar traced the source of the bolt as cheers went up amongst the Dwarven throngs. His eyes ended on a rune emblazoned hideously Dwarfish contraption near the center of the enemy's battle line. Finuvar would take care to avoid the enemy bolts by using his foe's own units as a shield. Once the organ gun was removed he vowed to take a bloody revenge on the bolt thrower crew.

Bouyed by shared pride in the virtual destruction of the Dragon Princes, the remaining dwarf engineers and artillery crew set about their final preparations. Checking, double checking and triple checking ranges, angles, wind direction and even air moisture. Preparations were only complete when the master engineer strode along the line giving each war engine a final knowing whack with his trusty hammer.

Undaunted but with heightened awareness of the danger facing them the Elves continued to advance. Quarrelers released their shafts into the oncoming Elves but were panicked and broke from the field due to the ferocity of the return fire. The Elves were making up for the loss of their Dragon Princes with volley upon volley of longbow fire when fate once more struck a cruel blow to the Elves. The Dwarf's rune mastery had guided a gudge stone through a seemingly impossible angle directly onto a repeater bolthrower which was utterly destroyed along with it's crew. Cries of lament errupted from the Elven units. Those slain crew members were well known and loved and had been instrumental in many victories. Countless oaths were sworn to avenge the passing of the slain Elven heroes.

On the northern flank the Elves marched forward, Phoenix guard followed by swordmasters and archers on either side. The dwarven quarellers chipped away at the units as the bolt throwers focused on the eagle rider. Finuvir heard an agonising shriek and, glancing over his shoulder, he saw a blooded and wound striken eagle bank away from the battlefield in panic. At least the beast had diverted fire away from himself and Gwindar. As Finuvir turned back to face the enemy, to his horror, he was greeted by the site of an organ gun being swivelled in his direction, simultaneously being primed to fire . Finuvir was staring death in the face ! As his life and past victories flashed before him a deafening boom, like a crack of thunder shattered his memories as screaming hot lead whistled towards him. Having the presence of mind and utter loyalty to his master Gwindar had reared up anticipating the danger to his master. Luckily, only 2 shots thudded into Gwindar, he was dangerously wounded but not mortally. Finuvir thanked his gods and prayed that he should survive this day to nurture his faithful mount back to full health.

Elsewhere on the battlefield the remaining Dwarf artillery was having just as little luck as the organ gun. The engineers had been directing their fire on the White Lion chariot that was moving along the Elf lines to improve their position prior to their advance. The quarellers and Elven archers on the north flank began a shooting duel that was to last the remainder of the battle and see the destruction of one of them.

The Elves advance had been slowed with the loss of the Dragon Princes and an eagle but not been overly impeded yet. The hammerers positioned themselves on the southern flank to meet the impending Elven Eagle charge and to counter the threat of a large White Lion unit attempting to outflank them. The Hammerer's repositioning allowed the bolt thrower one final attempt at Finuvir before he clashed into the Dwarf lines but the bolt flew wildly.

The remaining brave Dragon Prince clashed into the hammerers in a suicidal bid to hold them up while Finuvir takled the organ gun crew. The organ gun had only managed to fire twice and had been grossly unlucky not to inflict more casualties. The dumbfounded organ gun crew grumbled and frowned at one another and were cut to pieces in the space of a blink as sharpened talons and Finuvir's long blade flashed in the sunlight.

The second eagle bore down on the next artillery piece, the bolt thrower that had all but wiped out the Dragon Princes. On the north flank the Elves continued their advance and the Phoenix Guard smashed into a unit of Dwarf clansmen only to be routed within a few seconds of crazed combat. The artilllery crews continued to fire grudge stones and cannons at the chariot that was lining itself up for a charge. The Dwarfs cannot have been praying hard enough because Grimnir the Dwarf God did nothing to help direct their fire and, miraculously, the chariot suffered only minor damage.

The battle had now truly begun. The clash of Elven steel on solid Dwarven armour and shield resounded across the battle field.

The dwarf artillery continued to focus their efforts on the High Elf Lion chariot knowing full well the chaos it could inflict on the dwarf's rank and file. The organ gun and a dwarven bolt thrower were now useless, their crews having been slain. The Hammers still held the southern flank. They strode boldly forward to meet the approaching White Lions in the field and lessen the risk of their flank being overrun. The deft accuracy of the High Elf repeaters cut into the hammerers ranks and slew three of the mighty old warriors but they continued their march.

In the middle of the battlefield the Phoenix guard had realised their folly and rallied, turning to move back to the dwarven lines which remained largely in tact. Finuvir charged into the flank of the entrenched cannon battery and quickly slew the crew. The dwarf lord had anticipated the move and moved to protect his grudge thrower which was next in line.

The elf archers now had bow fire mastery over the battlefield. They had slain all but three of the Dwarf quarellers who still tried in vain to whittle down their foe. Having recovered their compusure the Phoenix Guard charged into a large unit of Dwarf Longbeards holding the hill, it was all or nothing and the Dwarves soon proved their mastery. The charge opened up a gap in the Dwarf lines and the swordmasters exploited the opportunity to engage and quickly rout the grudge thrower crew. The destruction was not immediate though and the Dwaf Lord charged the rear of the Swordmasters, the combat was ferocious and merciless but the units themselves did little damage to each other. It was the Dwarf Lord who turned the tide by slaughtering several Swordmasters with mighty swings of his axe (the dwarfs later joked that it was like an Ogre against child hobbits). The Swordmasters were totally dismayed by the power of the Dwarf Lord, they fled and were cut down to the last elf.

The battlefield was now strewn with the dead and dying. Cries of anguish were let out by the Elves amidst the dying oaths of the dwarfs. Continued fire from the undamaged repeater bolt thrower and two units of Elven archers slowly but surely continued to weaken the dwarf lines. Now, few viable units remained. All the dwarven artillery bar a bolt thrower were unmanned and unusable. The dwarfs had some combat ready units but they were weakened by ranged missile attacks..

On the High Elf side, the Lion Chariot, a repeater bolt thrower, the Swordmasters, Phoenix Guard, Lion Chariot, Dragon Princes and two eagles had all fled from the field or been wiped out. Despite these heavy casualties on both sides there was still not clear victor. The elves remained a strong missile fire force but the dwarfs had the upper hand in combat troops.

Finally, on the Souther flank, after much Dwarven foot stomping the White Lions and Dwarfs clashed in a frenzy of hard steel. Great axes cleaved a couple of dwarves in two but their mighty hammers crushed the tender Elven frames beneath them. The combat was evenly balanced and continued well away and almost unnoticed from the rest of the battle. More crushing blows saw more death amongst both sides but now the Dwarves had gained the upper hand and, despite their stubborness, the Elves were unnerved and ran. This was no organised retreat and confusion amongst the Elven ranks saw them all scattered or slain by the pursuing Dwarfs.

Finuvir surveyed the field. Many of his closest friends had died this day and others lay mortally wounded. The Dwarfs had little ranged weaponry to threaten the High Elf host (save one bolt thrower that Finuvir himself was bearing down upon). The Elves could circle to their heart's content picking off the remaining enemy warriors. Only the remaining elven bolt thrower would be under any threat. There was no honour in such a lowly tactic though. The Dwarves had fought bravely and shown their mastery of steel and shield.

The day was done, no one in this fight had won the field. All they had both done was written memories in their annuals and made widdows and orphans. Finuvir signalled to his army to collect their fallen and to withdraw. The dwarf lord did likewise as he drew out his quill and family book of grudges. Both generals knew that the battle was over and naught was now to be achieved.

--- DRAW ---


John said...

Now that is an entertaining read - really like it :)

Sigmar said...

Thanks John, that was one of mine :)

If anyone else has a sotry report or any other battle report they'd like to see on this site just let me know the link and I'll copy it across.


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