warhammer fantasy battle report narrative :-
"Finally it was time! Grashkul raised his axe and with a mighty WAARGH! he ordered his army to throw caution to the wind and charge..."(a superb humourous and characterful short story - I loved it)
| source : druchii.net | credit : Blackfel | 07-Apr-2009 |
Grashkul Throatrippa gripped his magical axe tightly in a clawed fist and clouted his boar on the head with the flat of his blade for good measure. The beast wasn’t doing anything particularly wrong, but the boar had been too quiet for too long and Grashkul wanted him to be ready for battle when the time came. The boar responded with a toss of his head and an angry squeal, and then began eagerly pawing at the ground as if he had been waiting for the blow to signal the right moment. Once he was certain that the boar had been properly motivated for the upcoming fight, the Black Orc Warboss checked the condition of his troops. He was surrounded by a large unit of Black Orcs, who were just as eager as he was to come to grips with the pointy-headed gits that waited for them across the field. On his right, five trolls meandered about aimlessly, scratching themselves idly and picking fights with each other. Grashkul bellowed angrily at them, and the trolls responded by lining up in a semblance of something that might be considered a formation, but only because he was in a generous mood. Beside the trolls stood Harumph, a pale-skinned giant that had shown up the previous evening looking for a fight. He grinned at the giant, for he knew just how much havoc the giant could cause in his enemy’s ranks.
To his left stood a large unit of Big’uns, led by his trusty standard bearer Wozzlut. Wozzlut was a relatively trustworthy type, and could be counted on to keep his boyz in line when the killin’ began. Unfortunately, a second boar-mounted figure was in Wozzlut’s unit, but unlike the standard bearer this one couldn’t be counted on. Grashkul hated shamans with a passion, because they were so notoriously unreliable even for orcs. Nikpik had been with him for a while, but he still refused to trust him. To the left of the Big’uns was a large unit of Boar Boyz Big’uns. Their boars had heard the squeal from their leader’s mount and were responding enthusiastically with excited squeals of their own. Finally, Grashkul spared a glance for three small units of gobbos: two units of Wolf Riders and a largish group of Night Gobbos led by a shaman. He didn’t expect much from them, especially considering how drunk they were from the previous evening’s festivities, but it wasn’t like he could keep them away from the fighting. Who knew? With some luck they might be able to distract the enemy long enough for the Orcs to do some serious killin.
With his final inspection complete, Grashkul raised his axe over his head and waved it forward, bellowing to his troops to move out. To his surprise, the army seemed to move forward at a relatively good clip, and his battle line remained intact. Normally he could count on at least one unit to squabble amongst themselves, but it seemed like today the army was keeping it’s eye on the prize. To his right, the Wolf Riders raced forward and fired their bows, and Grashkul chuckled when several Pointy Heads fell to the rain of arrows. He expected the elves to run like the cowards they were, but to his disappointment they merely closed ranks and prepared to return fire.
The elves readied their weapons and moved forward to meet the Horde, though they were still too far away to charge. A huge, many-headed creature raced to the front of the army, directly opposite the unit of trolls, followed by two elves with barbed whips to keep the monster in line. The unit of crossbowmen that had taken fire from the Wolf Riders fired back, and several of the gobbos dropped from their saddles, riddled with tiny bolts. The second unit of Wolf Riders came under fire from a large group of black-clad horsemen, and Grashkul snorted in amusement as every one of the gobbos dropped dead on the spot. Useless gits.
Across from him the Elf lines began to shift, as units chose their targets and prepared for the coming assault. The elf general, riding some kind of lizard thing and holding a large red halberd ordered his men forward, and his unit responded by marching forward at a slow pace, keeping some distance between the two armies. Beside them another heavily armed unit of elves carrying huge swords who were led by another lizard-riding officer changed their formation and lined themselves up opposite the Boar Boyz. The monster with several heads come close enough that the Black Orcs felt a wave of dread wash over them, but not one of them succumbed to the feeling of terror that the monster evoked.
Finally it was time! Grashkul raised his axe and with a mighty WAARGH! he ordered his army to throw caution to the wind and charge. The results were less than spectacular. The Boar Boys meandered forward a couple of feet, as did his own unit of Black Orcs, but the worst was Wozzlut’s unit of Big’uns…they immediately turned on each other in anger and four orcs died in the ensuing squabble. The Boar Boyz lowered their spears and prepared to charge into the sword wielding elves, but they lost their nerve when the lizard mount the elf commander was riding bared his fangs at them and hissed. Thankfully, the Trolls managed to make it into combat with the many-headed thing, but despite their enthusiasm they lost the combat as one of the trolls was ripped to shreds by the monster, but not without losing a single head in return.
The elves, emboldened by the indecisiveness of the Orc forces, saw their chance and attacked en masse. A unit of elves armed with spears charged into Harumph, and one elf armed with two swords seemed to appear out of the shadows and joined in the fight with the spearmen. The giant reached for the elf, but took two serious gashes on the hand for his trouble. The Boar Boyz fared little better, as the greatsword wielding elves crashed into them and broke them completely. The Boar Boyz tried to run, but the elves were too fast for them and pulled them down from behind. Grashkul felt himself getting angrier and angrier, but then a stroke of good fortune occurred. In their enthusiasm to butcher the Boar Boyz, the elves came into range of the Gobbos, and with an excited shout the little gitz threw three fanatics into them. The ensuing carnage decimated the elf unit, though they held their ground.
Finally it was the Black Orcs’ turn to fight. The elf general pointed at him and screamed a challenge, and Grashkul thanked Gork for the opportunity to finally wet his axe with elf blood. The elf struck first, swinging his glowing red halberd in wide arc faster than Grashkul could react, and the magical weapon bit deeply into his shoulder and chest. The wounds were grave, but not fatal, and Grashkul grabbed the halberd before the elf could withdraw it and pulled him close. With a mighty swing of his axe, Grashkul separated the elf from his head, and laughed mightily as the headless body crashed to the ground. The elves didn’t lose heart at the loss of their leader, however, and the battle continued on. Beside them, three elf women pushing a cauldron of all things charged into the Big’uns, and caused a disproportionate amount of damage, though not enough to break the unit.
The gobbos struck again as the shaman let loose a magical barrage at the elf swordsmen and killed all but four of them, though again their discipline kept them from running. The giant and the trolls were slowly losing ground to their opponents, but there was nothing he could do to help them. The giant must have realized that he needed to do something fast or else, because he began jumping up and down on the unit of spearmen with bloodthirsty enthusiasm. With a cry of terror the spearmen broke, but managed to outrun the giant. His own unit’s fight remained stalemated for some time until the elf Halberdiers finally lost their nerve and ran away. Grashkul ordered his soldiers to follow, but they weren’t quite fast enough to catch the fleeing elves. With two large units of infantry broken he thought that the battle was all but over, but a series of catastrophic events happened all at once. The trolls finally lost to the many headed monster, the gobbos were charged and destroyed by the remaining swordsmen, and the Big’uns couldn’t defeat the three elf women with the big bubbling pot. Even worse, the elves they were chasing regained their nerve and turned to face him again, daring him to charge. He was just about to oblige the impudent elves when a rain of arrows took his unit from behind. The elf crossbowmen killed a few of his Black Orcs, as did the black-cloaked horsemen.
Grashkul watched as the last of his army died away under the relentless blades of the elves. In desperation, he ordered his Black Orcs to charge into the halberdiers one more time, but despite killing many of them, the elves held their ground. He realized his mistake when no less than three units crashed into the side and rear of his sole remaining unit, and the Black Orcs followed their brothers into the darkness.
The last thing Grashkul ever saw was his own headless body toppling from his boar’s saddle as the sword-wielding elf who had fought so well against Harumph avenged his general’s death with a single swing of his sword.
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