Post by gloriousbattle on Dec 27, 2018 17:09:22 GMT -9
The Battle of Dead Orc Pass
The Abbess Unghuuliehaunt was a great sorceress, but no general. This hardly mattered, when her goblin soldiers outnumbered the warriors of the Alliance of Ice and Fire three to one, and when medusas and harpies and winged dragons slithered and flew in her vanguard. The First Snowcrowns War was over before the first arrow flew from its bow.
Gorgrat Eight-Fingers (later, much later, Gorgrat Wolfhound Khan) was no sorcerer, but a VERY great general. In all the history of Kyrthandria, perhaps only Father Kerebald the Bloody Handed was greater, and then only perhaps.
Gorgrat was no academy trained officer, but himself a war orphan of unfortunate circumstance. A half-orc child, hunted wherever he went, he found solace only with a pack of dogs. These he learned to live with and hunt with. They also learned from him. They learned he could open things -such as gates and doors and metal jars- that they could not. Each ate better for the presence of the other.
And Gorgrat learned from them. He learned something valuable from them indeed. He learned tactics. Cavalry tactics.
Cavalry tactics? From a pack of wild dogs?
Oh yes. He learned what dogs need not learn. He learned how to encircle and drive and slow the enemy. He learned how to use terrain against the enemy. He learned that the greater the enemy the greater the spoils and prize of the victor. He learned that the enemy could be imprisoned within his den, and forced out only when hunger and madness and starvation had already taken its toll.
In short, he learned how to conquer and rule. All the things that wild dogs knew, but knew not that they knew.
It is even said that Gorgrat decided to know more. And bought from an old hedge wizard or mad witch or fallen druid or some such, the language of the dogs. So that he could converse with them even as men and orcs conversed with each other.
Thus his canine realm grew considerably in might.
So it was that when the gnome rangers and fire-rider elf knights and treemen and other creatures that formed the Alliance of Ice and Fire -or The Hopeless Alliance, as its enemies called it- prepared for its doomed battle against Unghuuliehaunt's invincible hordes, a battle that was over before the first arrow flew from its bow- and found themselves confronted by a strange, wildling prince-a half orc wielding a club of bone and armored in mammoth skins and leading an "army"o f some 6,000 wolfhound mongrels, who offered to deliver them from their enemies if they would but place themselves under his command, and swear fealty to him 'on his coming victory', who were they to say no?
Dead men will scrabble for any twig before the current pulls them under.
Thus, the battle of Dead Orc pass began.
A battle that was over -almost- before the first arrow flew from its bow.
The goblins advanced, grumbling, but driven forward by the maddening songs of harpies and the vile gaze of medusas, and, worst of all, the poisonous breath of the great, green dragons, and by the thought of fresh meat and silver and other plunder (there might be time to reckon with Unghuuliehaunt later, who knew?) and laughed as they saw before them a line of dogs, backed by a few axe-armed gnomes.
True, the gnomes were good fighters (even the goblins had to admit that) and there were elves on their firedeer mounts, and treemen, and a few elementals of stone and fire and snow (the Alliance was desperate enough to make bargains with strange allies indeed), but these were few, and more than compensated for by Unghuuliehaunt's monstrous slaves.
Indeed, the conclusion was forgone.
As predicted, the dogs took a few casualties, and fell back, howling and whining. They fled through the gnomes, and disappeared over the ridge behind them.
The goblins closed with the gnomes.
The gnomes held.
Bolstered by men of stone and wood and ice and fire, they held, though ere long there were fewer of all.
The goblins rallied and charged again. This time nearly breaking their enemies, though again being repulsed. But now the Alliance forces were few indeed.
By now Unghuuliehaunt sent her elite boar-rider hobgoblins forward -again, she was no general, and should have had them in the vanguard- but was confident in the power of her magical monsters alone.
These readied their charge. There would be no fourth charge, for the gnomes had dwindled and were near exhaustion. The order was given.
And then countermanded.
Unghuuliehaunt and her personal guard were under attack. The army was enveloped. The dogs had reformed beyond the ridge, and struck their enemies from the rear.
But to say that the battle was over before the first arrow flew from its bow, was the nonsense of bards, of course. Though Gorgrat's strategy wreaked great slaughter upon his enemies, there were many close fights still to come that day, not the least was that in which Gorgrat stood with his boon companions, Hyerkani the Amazon, Uliztotle the swordsman-sage, Gray-Fang and Crab-Eater the companions of his pack, and stood against the green dragon Verdisrex and his mate.
Great was the madness of Verdisrex when his concubine fell, but fall she did, and he thereafter.
***
Though the hordes of Unghuuliehaunt were nine-tenths slain, there were still many battles to be fought in the Snowcrowns. Not the least of which were against gnomes and elves and elemental princes who, while happy enough to accept help from a wildling half-orc chieftain when death seemed certain, were less inclined to fulfill their vows once the war was won.
Not all of these were so faithless. Some from loyalty and some from thejoy of being on the winning side and some (the wisest) who understood the implications of a massive army being utterly crushed by a far lesser one... once a certain man had taken its reins.
And there were other battles again, against goblins, now fighting under their own professional soldiers rather than a mad spider-sorceress. Much blood, of gnome and elf and wolfhound would be shed.
But Gorgrat would never lose.
He would conquer all the Snowcrowns, then all the northlands, then make it to the southern seas, until the Czar of Rhiscontar himself would bend the knee to the Wolfhound Khan, and offer him fealty.
And offer thick slices of roasted oxen, to lapping dogs, while they lay before roaring fires. Mere dogs, who sought no honor, and no better reward.
And is there any better?
***
This set up was made with the figures I managed to cut out and assemble on Christmas Eve and Christmas day, or, at least, about three hundred of the four hundred. I didn't have enough bases to set up the rest.
My friend Joshua Cunningham was the photographer, and helped with the computer jiggery pokery. Thanks much Josh, and Merry Christmas!
The Abbess Unghuuliehaunt was a great sorceress, but no general. This hardly mattered, when her goblin soldiers outnumbered the warriors of the Alliance of Ice and Fire three to one, and when medusas and harpies and winged dragons slithered and flew in her vanguard. The First Snowcrowns War was over before the first arrow flew from its bow.
Gorgrat Eight-Fingers (later, much later, Gorgrat Wolfhound Khan) was no sorcerer, but a VERY great general. In all the history of Kyrthandria, perhaps only Father Kerebald the Bloody Handed was greater, and then only perhaps.
Gorgrat was no academy trained officer, but himself a war orphan of unfortunate circumstance. A half-orc child, hunted wherever he went, he found solace only with a pack of dogs. These he learned to live with and hunt with. They also learned from him. They learned he could open things -such as gates and doors and metal jars- that they could not. Each ate better for the presence of the other.
And Gorgrat learned from them. He learned something valuable from them indeed. He learned tactics. Cavalry tactics.
Cavalry tactics? From a pack of wild dogs?
Oh yes. He learned what dogs need not learn. He learned how to encircle and drive and slow the enemy. He learned how to use terrain against the enemy. He learned that the greater the enemy the greater the spoils and prize of the victor. He learned that the enemy could be imprisoned within his den, and forced out only when hunger and madness and starvation had already taken its toll.
In short, he learned how to conquer and rule. All the things that wild dogs knew, but knew not that they knew.
It is even said that Gorgrat decided to know more. And bought from an old hedge wizard or mad witch or fallen druid or some such, the language of the dogs. So that he could converse with them even as men and orcs conversed with each other.
Thus his canine realm grew considerably in might.
So it was that when the gnome rangers and fire-rider elf knights and treemen and other creatures that formed the Alliance of Ice and Fire -or The Hopeless Alliance, as its enemies called it- prepared for its doomed battle against Unghuuliehaunt's invincible hordes, a battle that was over before the first arrow flew from its bow- and found themselves confronted by a strange, wildling prince-a half orc wielding a club of bone and armored in mammoth skins and leading an "army"o f some 6,000 wolfhound mongrels, who offered to deliver them from their enemies if they would but place themselves under his command, and swear fealty to him 'on his coming victory', who were they to say no?
Dead men will scrabble for any twig before the current pulls them under.
Thus, the battle of Dead Orc pass began.
A battle that was over -almost- before the first arrow flew from its bow.
The goblins advanced, grumbling, but driven forward by the maddening songs of harpies and the vile gaze of medusas, and, worst of all, the poisonous breath of the great, green dragons, and by the thought of fresh meat and silver and other plunder (there might be time to reckon with Unghuuliehaunt later, who knew?) and laughed as they saw before them a line of dogs, backed by a few axe-armed gnomes.
True, the gnomes were good fighters (even the goblins had to admit that) and there were elves on their firedeer mounts, and treemen, and a few elementals of stone and fire and snow (the Alliance was desperate enough to make bargains with strange allies indeed), but these were few, and more than compensated for by Unghuuliehaunt's monstrous slaves.
Indeed, the conclusion was forgone.
As predicted, the dogs took a few casualties, and fell back, howling and whining. They fled through the gnomes, and disappeared over the ridge behind them.
The goblins closed with the gnomes.
The gnomes held.
Bolstered by men of stone and wood and ice and fire, they held, though ere long there were fewer of all.
The goblins rallied and charged again. This time nearly breaking their enemies, though again being repulsed. But now the Alliance forces were few indeed.
By now Unghuuliehaunt sent her elite boar-rider hobgoblins forward -again, she was no general, and should have had them in the vanguard- but was confident in the power of her magical monsters alone.
These readied their charge. There would be no fourth charge, for the gnomes had dwindled and were near exhaustion. The order was given.
And then countermanded.
Unghuuliehaunt and her personal guard were under attack. The army was enveloped. The dogs had reformed beyond the ridge, and struck their enemies from the rear.
But to say that the battle was over before the first arrow flew from its bow, was the nonsense of bards, of course. Though Gorgrat's strategy wreaked great slaughter upon his enemies, there were many close fights still to come that day, not the least was that in which Gorgrat stood with his boon companions, Hyerkani the Amazon, Uliztotle the swordsman-sage, Gray-Fang and Crab-Eater the companions of his pack, and stood against the green dragon Verdisrex and his mate.
Great was the madness of Verdisrex when his concubine fell, but fall she did, and he thereafter.
***
Though the hordes of Unghuuliehaunt were nine-tenths slain, there were still many battles to be fought in the Snowcrowns. Not the least of which were against gnomes and elves and elemental princes who, while happy enough to accept help from a wildling half-orc chieftain when death seemed certain, were less inclined to fulfill their vows once the war was won.
Not all of these were so faithless. Some from loyalty and some from thejoy of being on the winning side and some (the wisest) who understood the implications of a massive army being utterly crushed by a far lesser one... once a certain man had taken its reins.
And there were other battles again, against goblins, now fighting under their own professional soldiers rather than a mad spider-sorceress. Much blood, of gnome and elf and wolfhound would be shed.
But Gorgrat would never lose.
He would conquer all the Snowcrowns, then all the northlands, then make it to the southern seas, until the Czar of Rhiscontar himself would bend the knee to the Wolfhound Khan, and offer him fealty.
And offer thick slices of roasted oxen, to lapping dogs, while they lay before roaring fires. Mere dogs, who sought no honor, and no better reward.
And is there any better?
***
This set up was made with the figures I managed to cut out and assemble on Christmas Eve and Christmas day, or, at least, about three hundred of the four hundred. I didn't have enough bases to set up the rest.
My friend Joshua Cunningham was the photographer, and helped with the computer jiggery pokery. Thanks much Josh, and Merry Christmas!