dwarfs vs. Empire AAR 08/20/2007

OF DWARFS AND MEN
1800 point kill em all scenario for WHFB's
(Jesse,Dwarf commander)
(Matt, Empire commander)
(ORBATS at the end)

The grudges against the manlings had been building for years. Unpaid tithes, trespassing through the mountain roads, and the final straw was a human mining camp at the foot of the ancestral home of the Grimbeards. The time for words had passed. Halknar Grimbeard strapped on his gromril armor, honed his double handed war-mattock, and assembled his throng. Dwarven horns sounded throughout the darkened passes of the World's Edge mountains. . .

Prince Otto Shenkenkopf snorted at the messenger who brought warning that the dwarves were moving out of their mountain stronghold in force. "PREPOSTEROUS!" the prince shouted and had the sniveling cur whipped for his troubles. A few days (and a few messengers) later and Prince Shenkenkopf found himself sitting miserably in the saddle as the gray fog and haze rolled over the field. He could barely make out the dozen or so banners on the far side of the glen. To his left a flash of color. "Slayers", half-mad dwarfs who had suffered some disgrace, could be seen through the poor light, they were bent to their task. Sharpening the blades of their many axes or slowly building into a frenzy. . .
"Hrumph!" the prince snorted at them. He turned to his troop of knights, armor gleaming still in this poor morning's light. He would grind these "Slayers" into dust.

Grimbeard arrayed his troops according to the age old teachings of his ancestors. Strength supports strength. On his right the Slayers, anchoring the end of his line (the poor blighters never did give up!), then his Ironbreakers (decked out in the finest armor of the Old World), , supported closely by a sturdy group of warriors. In the center of the line, his cannon with a full view of the manlings drawing up across the glen. Finally his Thunderers (priming their muskets and waiting patiently) and at the end a doughty group of crossbow dwarfs (just as dangerous up close as they were with their quarrels). . . Yes, let the manlings test dwarfen mettle today. Today the grudge would be settled and honor would be restored (and the Shenkenkopf family would be forced to hand over a princely sum of gold to secure a lasting peace!)

Shenkenkopf sent the veteran sergeant away with a dismissive cluck! "How dare that low born commoner advise me where to send my knights?!?" On his left the order of Knights Panther waited for his command to charge into the dwarf slayers. Next to them were the Duchy's crack core of swordsmen being led forward by the Royal Battle Standard no less. Next was the cannon, forged of bronze and crewed by the finest gunnery team from Nuln that money could buy. Behind them stood the mercenary wizard Gribulous, master of the lore of Light. .. a unit of huntsmen from the hinterlands leaned against their yew bows and waited tensely for battle. A slavering band of criminals quickly pressed into free company service eyed their officers with bloody looks. The line of handgunners trotted smartly to the range markers, their blue and red livery stained by the splashing muck of the field. On his far right were the Prince's Own Greatswords and a unit of State spear militia. These two units would advance gloriously on the right, into the dwarfen lines, and show those stunted beasts what man-steel was capable of on the battlefield. . .

With one last look over his lines, Prince Shenkenkopf heeled his mount into the line with the knights. His family sword hung for a moment in the air and then dropped. The war drums beat out the "double time" cadence, the trumpets sang out and the host of men moved forward a sea of blue and red with white plumes and pageantry.

Across the field the dwarfs were strangely silent (except the Slayer's, who were busy gnawing on axeblades and making up new and horrible curse words. .. ) as their enemy pressed towards them. Not a quiver, not a sigh, not one backwards glance. The dwarfs waited and let the humans come to them. . .

PART II (or what the hell went wrong!)

Jesse and I decided to keep the game simple and straightfoward. We fought the game on a flat table. No scenery. No special rules. Kill 'em all Scenario.

I must admit I didn't put much thought into my set up. I threw my cavalry on the left wing facing off against the slayers (who never test morale and needed to be killed to the last dwarf) even though a little voice in the back of my head was saying "you're doomed!" "BAH!" I said to the little voice, "these knights will dish out a shedload of damage and I can cut through the slayers in two or three turns and roll up the dwarfs flank!" <insane laughter follows>

It was a mismatch all the way down the line. My swordsmen and their penal detachment (oddly enough known as "free companies" in game terms) faced off against dwarfen ironbreakers and a large unit of warriors. Apparently I was blinded by something because smack in the center of both units the Dwarf lord was waving his magic ax around and laughing to himself.
Oh well, I pressed on! My cannon and thin line of gunners had the possibility to inflict some early damage but even if the dice had been with me (and let's face it, they usually aint!) I wouldn't have inflicted enough damage on the rock-hard dwarfen center to save my swordsmen. . .

But wait! the debacle worsens! On my right flank I sent the greatswords in their full plate armor marching across the board with the unit of spearmen. 24+ inches lay between me and Jesse's line of thunderers and crossbowmen. at least three turns of marching into what would be a withering hail of fire.The greatswords, with their stubborn rule, took the salvos in good order, dying in droves. The spearmen broke midway through but rallied and kept going. Both units met their deaths, glorious and tragic, but wasted effort nonetheless.

Of course I mention nothing about the player in charge of the dwarfs (Jesse) who can fathom what evil lurks in that madman's soul? He just sits across the table and rolls ridiculous amounts of hits and saves. At one point I think I caught him rubbing my dice with a witch brewed hexxing salve, but I have no solid evidence. . . I will grudgingly admit he made some nice moves; flanking the swordsmen and collapsing my center in a single turn, but the rest I will attribute to those damn slayers and my continuing grudge with the dice gods. . .

I will provide snippets of the battle detailing the plight of Shekenkopf's men and the unbreakable line of Grimbeard's dwarves in

PART III. SHEKENKOPF'S FOLLY
Glimpses of the Battle

At two hundred yards the mist exploded into a line of red blossoms and the sound of thunder crashed around the greatswords. the slugs tore around them like angry bees, punching neat circles of death into their finely polished armor. The grizzled veteran carrying the standard pitched back with a grunt, dead before he hit the ground but a young noblemen from the second rank grabbed the pole and shouldered it without losing the double step. At 150 paces out the greatswords could see the dwarf line clearly. the gunners were priming their weapons without hurry, packing the charges with their rods in a very workmanlike fashion as if they were not in the thick of battle at all. At 100 yards the dwarf sergeant barked a command and as one the muskets came forward in flawless order. . . Deiter Lundorf, Priest of the Imperial Cult, raised both his hammers before him and howled "FOR SIGMAR! TO VICTORY" and the unit of greatswords followed him at a run. Men in full plate armor with two handed swords nearly as tall as themselves rushed headlong to close the killing gap.

"FIRE!!!!" at this range there was no need to aim, the dwarf gunners unleashed a fusillade that literally tore the greatswords to shreds. The heavy caliber slugs blew fist sized exit holes out of the chest cavities of the charging men. Bodies fell with whole quarters of their heads sheared off. Still as the roar of musketry died away the sounds of Lundorf's war cry still echoed across the glen. The blue robed priest ran madly on, his gait hitched by a bloody furrow across his hip where a ball had torn through him. The Standard bearer and and two others ran on with the priest. . . In a few short and bloody moments there was no one left alive from Prince Shekenkopf's Greatsword unit, it simply ceased to be.

The knights struggled to come to grips with the Slayers. Their charge had skewered a handful of them on lances. The horses had crushed some of them beneath their shod hooves. In the desperate fighting the axes could not break past the armor of the knights and the melee had come down to swords. The knights had to lean almost out of the saddles to smite the orange haired lunatics. Prince Shekenkopf cut down the leader of the trollslayers with his runefang, a weapon from ages past. As many as they slew the dwarfs never lost heart, instead of faltering they were redoubling their efforts, throwing themselves, without regard for safety, into the thickest part of the fighting. At one point a dwarf was run clean through the belly the bewildered knight looked on in horror as the transfixed slayer Smiled widely and grabbed the sword blade to hold his enemy fast then delivered an axe stroke to the knight's helm.
The knights fought till their sword arms were heavy and the ground was thick with blood and half naked corpses. Even though the knights were cutting down the slayers, it was not victory. Across the field the rest of the Empire army was in shambles. Units dropping their standards and running. And all around the knights, the ranks of dwarfs were pressing closer and closer.

Prince Shekenkopf gave the order to retreat! They must put distance between themselves and the oncoming infantry. Room to ride away, regroup and charge! The day could still be won. Four slayers still ran among the horses, slashing at the armored legs of the knights. One held the prince's reins and would not let go. Precious seconds were slipping through the Prince's fingers. The Slayer ducked under the wide cut of a broadsword and laughed looking away. No longer watching who he was fighting but giddy as the Dwarf Lord Grimbeard and his guard charged into the flank of the knights, axes and hammers flashing. The trollslayer didn't flinch as the desperate knights hewed his arms off leaving his hands still clutching to the bewelled reins of the Prince's warhorse, and he fell quite content to the ground. Watching the Axe of Grimbeard flashing as his vision darkened and went black. . .

Halknar Grimbeard stooped to pick up a shield one of the manling knights had lost in the fray. The shoddy rim was rent clean through, less than a whisker's thickness of brittle cold-forged iron in the edging. The dwarf cast the shield aside as he looked over his lines. The dwarfs stood in well ordered formations, each rank perfectly dressed. If it were not for the blood stained weapons and the field littered with bodies it would not be possible to tell a battle had been fought here this day. He sat on the giant corpse of one of the barded warhorses. Its skull staved in by hammerblows. It was one of a dozen that littered the bloody patch of ground where the Slayers had held to the last.
What remained of the manling troops had fled the field after the knights were cut down and Grimbeard had restrained the men from pursuing the broken formations of the enemy. He had no quarrel with the majoirity of men who died here. They were common folk, following the bidding of their lords. The old dwarf rose and paced a bit farther.

What would the world say of what had transpired here? The historians of men would lie, of course, fabricate the size of the dwarfs' numbers, create scenes of bravery that never occurred and embellish grandly the wasteful deaths of the few desperate fools who made it to the lines. Halknar's folk would not speak of this day, the event was beneath them worthy of no song or inscription in the hallowed stone of his ancestor's halls.. The lord's steel-grey eyes gazed upon the high ground where the Slayers had fought. Perhaps they would be spoken of, remembered. . .

Halknar could not imagine carrying the shame that forced a dwarf into the life of a trollslayer, but whatever inner turmoil gnawed at them, it served them well in battle. Before the fighting he had tasked these madmen to hold the left flank and turn away the knights or hold them in combat until his troops could break the rest of the enemy line. The carried out there orders to the last. Halknar motioned to his Thanes to come over to the piled corpses of slayers. "These dwarfs have redeemed themselves. Have their beards cleansed of the Slayer's dye and prepare them to lay in the proper burial halls of their family. Their debts have been paid."

Prince Shenkenkopf strained against the manacles that held him shackled to the walls of the prison. The dwarf guards had been rough and stoic, but not cruel. It had been fourteen days in the lightless tunnels of the dwarf keep. His family had hopefully raised the ransom. His good for nothing brother was probably knee deep in whores and ale at the word that the prince had been captured.
Shenkenkopf shuddered, as the thought that perhaps the ransom would not be paid and the debt would have to be settled with blood. . .

DWARFS!!!!

2000 Pts - Dwarfs Roster - Unnamed

Dwarf Lord (1#, 266 Pts)
   1 Halknar Grimbeard @ 266 Pts
      General;; Gromril Armor
      1 Runic Weapon @ [65] Pts
         Master Rune of Kragg the Grim;(2 handed runeweapon Rune of Cleaving (+1 ST); Rune of Fury (+1 At)
      1 Runic Armor @ [5] Pts   Rune of Stone (+1 save)
      1 Runic Talisman @ [45] Pts (4+ Wardsave)
         Master Rune of Spite

Thane (1#, 160 Pts)
   1 Halknar Stonearm (Standard Bearer) @ 160 Pts
      Hand Weapon; Gromril Armor; Battle Standard Bearer
      1 Runic Weapon @ [45] Pts
         Master Rune of Swiftness; Rune of Cleaving (+1St)
      1 Runic Armor @ [25] Pts
         Master Rune of Gromril

Dragon Slayer (1#, 80 Pts)
   1 Fangsnapper @ 80 Pts
      Hand Weapon; Slayer; Unbreakable
      1 Runic Weapon @ [30] Pts
         Rune of Striking (+3 WS)

Dwarf Warriors (25#, 250 Pts)
   24 Dwarf Warriors @ 250 Pts
      Musician; Standard Bearer Hand Weapon; Heavy Armor; Shield
      1 Veteran @ [19] Pts (+1 At)


Ironbreakers (19#, 277 Pts)
   18 Ironbreakers @ 277 Pts
      Musician; Standard Bearer; Hand Weapon; Gromril Armor; Shield
      1 Ironbeard @ [25] Pts (+1 At)

Thunderers (13#, 197 Pts)
   13 Thunderers @ 197 Pts
      Musician ; Standard Bearer ; Hand Weapon; Dwarf Handgun; Lt Armor

Quarellers (14#, 193 Pts)
   13 Quarrellers @ 193 Pts
      Musician Standard Bearer Hand Weapon; Crossbow; Lt Armor; Shield
      1 Veteran @ [22] Pts (+1 At)


Slayers (18#, 231 Pts)
   17 Slayers @ 231 Pts
      Musician; Standard Bearer: Hand Weapon; Slayer; Unbreakable
      1 Giant Slayer (+1 str, +1 A)

Artillery Battery (5#, 140 Pts)
   1 Cannon @ 140 Pts
      Rune of Forging;
      3 Crew @ [0] Pts Hand Weapon; Light Armor & 1 Engineer (+1 BS)


Total Roster Cost: 1794

Shenkenkopf's Folly

General of the Empire (1#, 206 Pts)
   1 General of the Empire @ 206 Pts
      General; Barding; Hand Weapon; Full Plate Armor; Shield
      1 Warhorse @ [0] Pts
      1 Sword of Sigismund @ [45] Pts (+1 str always strikes first) 1 Holy Relic @ [45] Pts (4+ ward save)

   1 Captain (Battle Standard Bearer) @ 120 Pts
      Hand Weapon; Battle Standard Bearer
      1 Sword of Justice @ [20] Pts (reroll all failed to wound rolls) Armor of Meteoric Iron (auto 1+ save)

   1 Battle Wizard @ 125 Pts
      Level 2 Upgrade; Hand Weapon
      1 Luckstone @ [25] Pts

   1 Warrior Priest @ 133 Pts
      Hand Weapon; Extra Hand Weapon; Heavy Armor
      1 The White Cloak @ [35] Pts

   19 Swordsmen @ 195 Pts
      Musician, Standard Bearer; Hand Weapon; Light Armor; Shield
      1 Sergeant @ [16] Pts (+1 At)

      10 [Det] Free Companies @ [50] Pts
         Hand Weapon; Extra Hand Weapon

State Troops (10#, 80 Pts)
   10 Handgunners @ 80 Pts
      Hand Weapon; Handgun

Militia Troops (10#, 105 Pts)
   9 Huntsmen @ 105 Pts
      Hand Weapon; Bow; Scouts; Skirmishers
      1 Marksman @ [15] Pts (+1 BS)


   8 Knights of the Inner Circle @ 324 Pts M:4 WS:4 BS:3 St:4 T:3 W:1 I:3 At:1 Ld:8 Sv:1+ Ward:
      Musician; Standard Bearer; Barding; Hand Weapon; Lance; Full Plate Armor; Shield
      1 Preceptor @ [42] Pts (+1 At)
      1 Banner of the Daemonslayer @ [50] Pts unit causes FEAR on the turn it charges!

   19 Greatswords @ 230 Pts
      Musician; Standard Bearer; Hand Weapon; Great Weapon; Full Plate Armor; Stubborn
      1 Count's Champion @ [22] Pts (+1 At)

   1 Great Cannon @ 100 Pts

   18 Spearmen @ 182 Pts
      Musician; Standard Bearer; Hand Weapon; Spear; Light Armor; Shield
      1 Sergeant @ [14] Pts (+1 At)
      6 [Det] Handgunners @ [48] Pts :
         Hand Weapon; Handgun

Total Roster Cost: 1800