Author Topic: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (Season One complete, lots of screenies)  (Read 50731 times)

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Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #30 on: January 15, 2015, 04:58:29 PM »
The initial outlay of the troops [thanks to being unable to move the original three squads of the Inquisitor’s company while I’m placing troops from the main regiment] was somewhat scattered, and the goblins in the woods outside of town had to be dealt with first (with a little help from Sciff’s crossbows, as he marched past); but soon the Father’s wing was off into the woods.

“...what the flying hell is that thing?” Reed squinted the following morning. Off in the sky hung... a boat from a bag?


“A goblin bomber,” the Inquistor mused. “And hanging over the island where the ruined chapel is. We should wait here a day, and let our yeomen come forward now that they’ve recovered. Unless you want it dumping explosives on you!”

“We could send the eagle after it,” Reed suggested.

But, “No, my forwards have spotted goblin archers on the island, too,” Pint reported. “I bet that thing is guarding the swamp which leads to the island. I hope the eagle knows well enough to leave it alone, until we can get to the archers ourselves!”

“How is the left flank going? Can you tell?” Reed asked his fellow lieutenant, as he made plans to signal the yeomen forward.

“Not good. On one hand, a bunch of war orcs ran out of Hageburg castle. On the other hand, a bunch of war orcs ran out of Hageburg castle! They have some truly ass-kicking little goblin spearmen, too. And there were at least two full squads of orc berserkers waiting just over the foot of the mountains. Our guys got messed up quite a bit -- no one wiped out, but...”

“But it sounds like they could use some help,” said Reed.

“I agree!” Divine agreed. “And considering I’m the captain of this wing, perhaps you should include me in this conversation!”

“Sorry, sorry, no offense!” Reed quickly apologized. Pint smirked under his new black hood and backed away. “We’re just used to working alone without any higher ranking officers nearby, and you, um, looked like you wanted to think. About things.”

“I did. I do. For example, I’m thinking Lieutenant Whatever-his-name-is-over-there ought to be grateful for wearing my livery.”

“ wait just a minute!”

“Didn’t I announce that I have decided to dress like rangers in order to claim their colors as my own? Well, never mind,” said the silver-haired patrician with the faintest ghost of a smile. “You may take it as no coincidence that I gathered a number of scouts, trained them as rangers, and brought them with me to clear the path for you.

“You may also go leftward for a day or two, and smite our foes, for our fellows. We’ve looked over this area already, and until we move down the road farther we should be safe for a while. I know you want to take that castle behind those foolish war orcs:

“hand those goblin killers over into the outer darkness!”

So they did.

With help from the deathly rangers, the west wing quickly crushed or routed the uru looters.

But when Reed looked around after ensuring the yeomen were camped for the day nearby, after their march into the wood-road, he found the prickly Inquisitor had gone forward down the road anyway to scout more enemies: far beyond protection.


[Gamenote: this was admittedly a very foolish move on my part, and one I hope I don’t pay too hard for: there are two goblin rider squads who can see me as easily as I see them, and both can attack me with impunity, even though one will have to camp on a riverbank to do so. So can the bomber. So can the archers if they’re desperate.]
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 09:51:34 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #31 on: January 15, 2015, 05:14:24 PM »
“REVEREND FATHER!” Reed called out as he marched along the road, seeing the bomber pummeling something which only could be the Inquisitor. He didn’t get far before that voice called out, “WARE, GOBLIN SNEAKERS ON YOUR RIGHT!”

“You crazy imbecile,” Reed gnashed his teeth in worry. “We can’t protect you or even attack those things in the woods; yeomen, shoot! Well that didn’t help much. What are we supposed to do -- “


“I have friends in high places,” the bleeding priest grunted as he swiped at the sneakers himself in passing back into the cover of the archers. “And also Master Brennock.”


“You have brain damage, that’s what!” Reed shouted. “Look at you! One more scratch, and you’ll be down for the whole campaign, assuming we can find your sorry -- !”

William D’Quazir thundered down the path behind him, jolting Reed out of his tirade, and charged into the trees to spear down the last of the sneakers left alive.

“Oh for... you, too? Are you just as insane? And how are we supposed to protect you from that bomber??”

“We will pray to God for a miracle, I guess,” heaved the tired and wounded nobleman. “We were coming back to the town to rest, heal and refit, after a terrible fight with the very worst goblins I’ve ever seen, when local scouts who had stayed behind alerted us to your predicament and you’re welcome.”

“I wouldn’t have a predicament, if people would show some God-da... God-blessed discipline!” Reed retorted.

“What son of a purblind idiot is this bleeding all over my woods?!” Pint announced as his rangers returned to the area. “Oh for heaven’s sake...”

“...your sarcasm... well-played,” admitted the Reverend, raising a hand. “If I can survive the night, I’ll need a day before I can be of much help again.” He shook his head beneath the glares of the under-ranking officers. “I was wounded nearly to death before, and thought I had fully recovered, enough to shrug off or dodge or parry whatever they happened to throw at me...”

[Gamenote: which is as good an explanation as any for why he’s the high priest of the sword, the ultimate butt-kicker presumably for the inquisition itself, and yet only level zero. ::) ]

“You, sir, are eaten up with pride,” stated Reed. “And now you, and probably others here, will pay the bloody price of it. This is a team. We work together. To support one another. Priests are supposed to know that better than anyone.”

“I could say they killed several people very dear to me,” the High Priest gritted in pain through his teeth. “But that would be no excuse, I know. I have been horribly, inexcusably immature in my actions and... yes, in my pride. And in my pride, throwing away my discipline not once but twice now, I have been brought low. I accept, and I promise: one way or another there will not be a third time.” So saying he gripped his golden-edged sword, and crouched and waited to see how badly they would be hunted today.

And then the shadow of death fell upon him...

“Hey!” cried out Torn, as she dashed between the trees on her little mare. “We’re pretty much finished on this side of the river for a while, so I thought y’all might could use some -- wow, Dexter. You look a mess. Awww... Razorwind wants to cuddle you! No, Razor, back! He is not dead yet, back!” she insisted and slapped the confused eagle with a whip.

“...she carries a whip. Did I know that?” Pint stared in amazement.

“Uh. We do now. I guess,” said Reed, trying hard not to laugh.


[Gamenote: fortunately, I thought to check just how far away the eagle was. One hex short of being too far away: close enough! -- though it took me fifteen minutes to remember that to put him over an ally I’d have to click with a shift key held down.]

“My humiliation is well-deserved, lady,” the shaking priest admitted, also trying not to laugh but failing. “An angel’s wing is welcome whatever the color!”

“We’ve already put down one of those bombery things today,” Torn thoughtfully reported as she peered through the trees at the peculiar goblin contraption not far away. “It won’t get him, at least, and if it tries getting anyone else nearby, well, that’ll be a mistake!”


“We’ll need all the help we can get,” Reed agreed. “The Reverend Captain says we’ve got a lot of hyena riders to worry about, and also more slingers on the way. Aww, crap, the bomber’s going after the only people out in the open...”


Reed winced, but Sir William called out, “What? Is someone trying to get my attention? Bah, I thought being bombed would be exciting!” Which in turn excited admiring cheers from nearby halberdiers!

Then some of the missing goblins appeared, briefly. And slew or wounded a few more noble knights with their vicious slings and stones. Before vanishing into the woods again.


“Could have been worse,” Pint tried to comfort the wounded knight that night. “A lot worse.”

“Please, William, I do thank you for running down those villains,” Reed pleaded, “but please get yourself back to the castle and recover!”

He couldn’t, but he could reach the other side of Meerhelm, where theoretically he would be safe -- unless goblin assassins managed to follow him home.

The next morning, Reed declared: “Yeomen. Torn. Remove that thing from my sky!” The bird went first; it didn’t succeed in destroying the goblin bomber, but...


“Razorwind found those nasty goblins, too!” Torn interpreted the signals from her eagle. “And... riders on a hill. Wolf riders?”

“Hyenas,” coughed Divine. “They will be just as bad as the slingers, or worse. Gather in close today while I rest. Tomorrow...”

“Tomorrow we will be running terribly late,” Reed reminded him: “We only have another week to get things done on schedule here. But I agree, let’s at least put those slingers down. Wait, yeomen! Never mind the bomber, we’ll be under protection from you and the eagle if we do this right. Soften up those goblins!”

“Good,” Pint applauded, “and now I’ll send my second squad over to see if their little stones and slings hurt as much as javelins do!”


They didn’t.

“Excellent,” said Reed. “They may still be in the woods, but they’re broken and badly wounded. Halberds!”

“Wait, uh, sir -- we’ll have to do that under the bomber!”

“With archers and Razorwind nearby to protect us? Let them try anything. You saw it bounce off the cavalry’s armor, right? I’m betting those goblins won’t bounce off the points of our blades, though!”


“I almost felt kinda bad about that, sir,” said one of the soldiers, shaking his head.

“I almost felt bad about executing those poor, huddled, murdering looters, too,” said Reed. “But then I didn’t. All right, let’s make sure everyone’s pulled in tight around the archers tonight!”

“I won’t be able to get in that close today,” Father Divine sent word. “But don’t worry about me. Even if that bomber can see me, which it probably can, I feel fully recovered, I promise. The worst that can happen is that they bomb me again, which wasn’t so bad -- and better than if they chose to bomb Sir William -- and then perhaps the hyenas will hit me. If they do, so be it: I’ll survive, and we’ll get them tomorrow either way. Why, look,” he grimly grinned, after sending on the note. “It shall occur, according to the prophecy.”


But that wasn’t all that occurred.

“Get ready!” Pint announced. “An utter assload of goblins have crossed the river and they’re -- look out!” A shower of goblin arrows already were pelting the yeomen archers, caught out on the forest path.

Then it got worse.


A whole squad of hyena riders rode up the path to spear the hapless archers. Torn sent her eagle in to defend them, but the cost was dear as the goblins rode away again.

“Try to rest and recover,” Reed comforted the yeomen. “We’ll need you tomorrow again. Armor up, lads: if they want to attack someone, let’s give them a real target! Fork those archers over!!”


The archers, specially trained to fight in the woods, didn’t do too badly with their little swords defending. But though one or two of Reed troops went down, only one or two of the archers were left, running away down the path behind the hyenas.


Who were soon embroiled in a javelin war with two of Pint’s ranger squads. This didn’t end well for the goblins.

And ended less well for them, when the High Priest of the Sword charged into the forest glade where they had tried to retreat.

Some survivors made the mistake of trying to javelin him in the back as he walked away afterward.

He said prayers for their souls, too.

[Gamenote: this was an oddity based on him having slain everyone in a foe-tossing charge before the graphic routine for the preliminary javelin repulse kicked in; the javelins actually came first in the reckoning, so the computer confusedly drew in a couple of hyenas to jav him even while it was running the graphic routine for him to walk away from his utterly successful charge! I kept expecting the next phase of the battle to kick in, with the larger group, namely the hyenas, surrounding him while he smote them, but they were already dead. Father Divine hasn’t been able to do much yet in this game, but he’s excessively metal. :) :) :) ]

The third ranger squad ran up, traded javelins with another waiting goblin-scout-rider group, and then retreated back to the protection of the archers in the center.


[Gamenote: melees generally happen simultaneously, although the computer will generate what looks more like a give-and-take fight for fun. Javs, by contrast, are first strike/counterstrike weapons; but skirmisher duels are resolved simultaneously the same way. In this case, the rangers were so much better than the inexperienced goblins, though, and the goblin animations take so long to trigger, that it looked like the rangers mowed down six or seven goblin riders first and then the goblins retaliated weakly. I didn’t quite get the snapshot for the mow-down, unfortunately. Had the rangers been foolish enough to trade off with the slingers, on the other hand, the graphic routines would have been a lot more simultaneous -- and, unrelatedly, the damage would have been a lot more even. The game treats goblin riders weirdly; they’re cavalry, and so take a huge -4 defense in the woods, but they’re also hyena riders which gives them back +2 defense (and +2 to attack) in the woods. For a total of still -2 defense in the woods! -- unless they level up and take some particular skills.]

The eagle attacked the bomber again, and drove it away for a while; but in retreating the bomber got near Sir William’s squad, preventing him from reinforcing or even resting properly. He could, however, rush his wounded squad up the road to the liberated castle and take refuge there, where Captain Pfeil was working hard at preparing a difficult river crossing.

“If only we had some way to hit those hyenas while they’ve retreated down to the river!” fumed Pint. “A stinking group of peasants could slaughter them all! -- no offense. Where’s that eagle?”

“None taken,” Reed assured him.

“Maybe some taken?” Torn chuckled. “Are you saying my eagle stinks?”

“...uh, no, swear to heaven, no,” Pint muttered, watching her finger the whip. “I’m just, uh, help please AAAHHH!!”


“Be of good cheer,” called the High Inquisitor from nearby where he was praying. “War is a time of miracles! Were you calling to heaven for help?”

“...yes?” Pint decided he ought to edge away back into the trees and check on his squads for the night.

“We have been truly blessed and fortunate,” the Reverend opined more seriously that night while the officers conferred.

“...not that I entirely disagree,” Reed also opined, “but this doesn’t look entirely like being truly blessed to me.”

“You are seeing now instead of later. Consider: we could have been fighting all these poor fiends while crossing a river and maybe a swamp.” As Reed’s eyes bugged at realizing the implications, the priest continued, “Their pitiable lust for slaughter led them to slaughter. And yes, before you say so, I criticize myself in this as well. I will not even take credit for drawing them across the river: had we moved up in synchrony, as Lieutenant Reed wanted us to, we might have caught them trying to cross the river themselves. As it is, despite the near disaster, I’m willing to give thanks.”

“Did anyone notice the goblins fitting a metal basin to the boat of their bombing balloon?” Torn asked. “Because I did, when I went back to check on them earlier. They’ll be back at full strength, or actually better, tomorrow. All we did was give them practice,” she grimaced.

“Possibly a problem for our allies, too; but we’ll just have to deal with it as we can,” said Reed. “Those goblin archers will have been able to recoup a lot of wounded tonight -- we did good getting rid of the hyenas, with a lot of help from heaven,” he waved and called out, “but tomorrow we have got to finish off the two remaining goblin squads this side of the river.”

“And then still deal with a squad of archers overwatching the river on the other side,” said Pint. “But we can do that. Maybe starting tomorrow, come to think of it.”

Father Divine started early on the morrow against the archers.


Rather than pick off the few unwounded survivors of that charge, Pint led his first squad across the river past them and the nearby goblin skirmishers -- narrowly avoiding a much more dangerous group of slingers hiding in the woods along the way! But the risky maneuver was worth it:

Between him and Razorwind, the archers blocking the river passage were thoroughly destroyed.

Reed led a four-prong attack on the nearby goblin sneakers, too; but they took a heavy toll on one of his ranger squads before being finished off. A much tougher group of goblins seemed likely to try to attack; would the second ranger squad, with only four unwounded able to defend, be the target? If so, could it survive, even with some defensive crossbowing? And where would the bomber strike? -- Father Divine wasn’t and couldn’t be under the crossbows’ protection; nor could they protect more than once anyway. Would Razorwind and Pint be safe enough across the river now, or would more goblin enemies fatally reveal themselves? Torn was quite worried, Reed noticed, and not only for her eagle.

“Here comes the bomber,” she said, nervous without her eagle nearby, and...


And the daring goblin bombers bravely attacked the one group that could hurt them: the yeomen!

“Run, get out of there!” Reed yelled, before realizing that if they did, then most of his troops would be left without extra shooting defense from the goblin killers who were...

...who were sneaking around his squads right now, going for...

...”MURDERERS!” cried Father Divine from a distance, idly slapping away the one arrow the foolish surviving goblin archer in the river tried to loft at him.

For the goblin skirmishers, with their simple slings and stones, sunk those stones into the skulls and chests of the final remaining yeomen.

The squad perished.

“I want everyone possible across that river RIGHT NOW!” Reed demanded; but the heavily wounded second ranger squad couldn’t possibly make it, and fled back toward the woods just outside Meerheim, where this stalled push had started.

Everyone else made it across the river, with Father Divine entering the previously captive permanent hunting camp of Wittenbuch.


« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 09:52:57 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #32 on: January 15, 2015, 05:42:56 PM »
“Thanks for clearing the way,” Reed sighed. “Glad to see you’re safe, Pint.”

“Are you safe? You’re safe right?” Torn demanded to know. “Good. We lost a whole squad, all the archers...”

“Damn. Poor guys. That bomber has to pay somehow. Well, here on this side of the river we found some more of those hyena things, but don’t worry: when th’ Reverend Father liberated the hunting camp, we found a whole squad of horse yeomen -- not archers unfortunately, that would have been too useful,” he rolled his eyes, “but they were glad to be safe instead of eaten, and helped us put down those rabid doggy things and the hyenas they were riding on.”

“Great. I’m sending Razorwind back, then, to guard the surviving rangers of that squad, if he can find them,” Torn decided.

“I feel like we ought to rest tomorrow if we can,” Reed said. “I don’t think we’re going to make the main target for finishing this campaign anyway; no need to kill ourselves trying. King Victor will have troops striking back against the horde all along the fort-wall. Let’s just take care of this area and do it right, okay?”

[Gamenote: sure, I would like an extra catapult for free for winning the gold time, but I can live without it.]

The next day, since the new horse skirmishers certainly didn’t need a rest, Reed sent them on around the lake, partly to help support Derrick if he needed it, and partly to scout the final castle, their actual target for this operation.


The squad dutifully signaled back what they found before moving on outside Reed’s purview.

“...yep, glad I’m resting before we try to deal with that!” said Pint, and parked himself for the day.

“I hope our rangers and Razorwind are all right,” sighed Torn, as she settled herself on a hill overlooking the river to watch for trouble. “I can still see that bomber... oooh, Razor is fighting it! Still hasn’t beaten it, though. He’s got to rest sometime, too, or even that bomber will kill him!”

“It’s a real problem,” said Reed, as he climbed up on the hill to sit next to her, “but not one I can help with right now. We’ll just have to pray for help. And maybe pray for some of the souls of our men, today, while we heal up for the final push.”


“How about across the lake? Any clear idea what’s happening there?” Reed asked.


“Huh. Hard to say,” he agreed as she grunted and passed him the telescope after staring a while herself. “Looks like Brim is still strong, but if he’s there the assault on that fort across the river hasn’t gotten going much yet. Master Brennock’s there; and the Deathreed,” he grinned. “So they’re safe.”

“That wouldn’t by any chance be named after you,” Torn archly asked.

“Well, we’re here for the day, and I feel better now that I can see they haven’t done any better than us, really!” Reed laughed. “So sure, I’ll tell you the story...”

The next day dawned with Father Dexter grimly assessing the swamp between him and the island in the lake.


“Look,” said Reed, “I’m not going to run up and kick that hornet’s nest full of trolls and God help us what else; not until Captain Derrick’s side of the regiment gets in range. So why don’t we just send one of our ranger squads here to go get whatever you feel is in there today? They’re in range, they can get it and get back tomorrow, easy. You’ll be days trying to forge through that swamp and the woods on the island and back again!”

“Hey Reed! Razorclaw just detonated that bomber I think!” Torn called out.

“Thank God about time,” Reed and the Inquistor both muttered -- then grinned a bit lopsidedly at one another. “Fine,” the Father relented. “They can go get it.” So they did. The next day they would return with a Banner of Valor, which would cheer the hearts and strengthen the arms of all allies nearby. (+1 to melee for adjacent allies)

Another day of rest; Torn reported a crossbow squad flying Pfeil’s version of Sylent’s flag was coming up the road from Meerheim!

“I’m bored,” Pint said. “I’m tired of waiting. What say we run up there to the castle, do some damage, then run back to the woods, hey?”

“What say we don’t and say we didn’t?” Reed yawned grumpily as he stood on the treeline, away from where his halberds were camped along the road. But then he realized that odd request from the patient veteran scout wasn’t for him.

“You could go there and back,” allowed Captain Divine, as he also watched from the treeline. “But most of us would only be able to go and fight, not return. That would be committing to an assault, against terrible odds. I’ve done that already this week, thanks. I’m in no hurry to do it again. In case you were checking.”


“If we did go there and back, do some damage, terrorize ‘em a bit,” said Pint, “do you think some might break off and come back here to fight?”

“Maybe,” said Reed. “What will certainly happen, is that the goblin catapult will get some scouting and be able to drop large rocks on us.”

“So. First target,” grinned Pint. “Maybe tomorrow. Let’s get in position.”

On the next day, sure enough:

“There is one almighty huge orc and goblin cavalry up there,” Pint reported around mid-morning. “But no more catapult. I think we really accomplished something today. We might could do that every day hereafter, just with a different squad!”

“Assuming they don’t come after us now. But if they do, great,” said Reed. “We’re ready to defend, and to counterattack, and Fitch just came up. Damn, Fitch, did you get tired waiting and come to see if we need rescuing?”

“Not you, dumbass, the girl!” he snorted. “Her eagle helped out a lot, back at Meerheim -- saved your crossbowmen from being bombed and slung down to the last man, no lie. I imagine he’ll be along pretty soon; so will the second ranger squad, they survived, a little worse for wear. Your own crossbow squad got pushed by attacks down the left path; last I saw they were headed for Hageburg. Might be reinforced there already by now -- they were badly messed up.”

“Wish I had Sciff, no offense. We have some trolls in Talshorn castle, according to Pint and his men.”

“Aw, yeah, Sciff would love that. Maybe he’ll get a shot, if he and his crew are still alive. Any sign of the Major?”

“Kind of? A bunch of bull riders pulled up at the castle from the east a day or two ago. Torn says that was about the time the few people she could still see north of the river moved across, so either they got bored slaughtering our left wing, or they called it a day and ran back to defend Talshorn.”

“I’m going to hope it’s the latter, if that’s okay with you,” yawned Fitch. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Could be steak tomorrow,” Reed walked back over to his men, and pointed across the lake.


“Derrick is coming,” gritted Dexter. “Finally. The boy does take his time.”

No one chased the rangers back after their raid, and only some slightly experienced and very wounded goblin spears took the place of the catapult.

“Tomorrow the final push begins,” the High Priest told them that night as they finished off their meals. “It may not end tomorrow; but if we can get it to end the day after, we should be awarded a prize by King Victor for our... relatively hasty action.”

“I’m not real sure we can kill them all in two days,” Pint said warily. “I’m good but I’m not that good.”

“You only have to take the castle,” the severe, silver-haired man assured him. “If we can get that far, we’ll have dealt enough damage and secured a strong place from which to deal more damage. Their morale will break and they’ll run.

“Stage one will be getting to the trolls. Not an easy task. They may come out to us! -- and better in some ways if they do, as they should be in less protected areas. But then someone else will likely hold the castle and we’ll have to get to them.”

“Through the trolls, probably,” Fitch reminded them. “I just want to be sure that’s kept in mind, you know. In case it’s important.”

“Also keep in mind,” said Father Divine, “that the trolls will be the most armored creatures out there, so whomever or whatever holds the castle will be easier to root out. The trolls will run, too, if we can get in."

“You rangers will be the key to all this, I fully expect,” Reed added. “You can harass your targets for one thing, pushing them out with multiple attacks. And you can move after you attack, without worrying about enemy zones of control. If you can get out of each other’s way, no offense intended -- I’m just saying, things’ll be tight -- you can punch even trolls out of the castle, bam bam bam, and then sneak on in. We win. I suppose.”

“I can contact Master Brennock, through a device he gave me,” said the Inquisitor, “and request a final meteor strike if he has one. Yes, I know, I’m the High Priest of the Sword. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid: wizards are helpful in battle and in many other ways,” he sighed. “They also raise the dead, and brought a star to strike the earth and turn into a demon that nearly destroyed us all six hundred and forty years ago. The study of magic is exceptionally dangerous to many other people than magicians. That’s why we keep close track of those who fight with it. Killing them if necessary. Including as an example.

“I doubt it will be necessary to make an example of Master Brennock, fortunately; he has served well in repelling this horde. But still, we have reasons for doing what we do.”

The following morning, the Reverend Captain reiterated: “We have three connected problems before we can end this.

“First, blow a chink in the defense around the castle. The goblin spears are the obvious choice here.

“Second, neutralize the archers protecting the castle. I have been in contact with Master Brennock, and though we cannot speak exactly I think I have succeeded in getting across the gist of how to win today and tomorrow. If we see them attack on the left of their advance, heading for the archers, we’ll know. In the worst case scenario, whoever goes after the trolls first will have to weather the defensive shots and run away after harassing them.”

“If they can be harassed,” Pint muttered as the threatened time grew nearer.

“That is indeed a possible failure for our plan. I just don’t know. Do your best. Also, keep in mind that we ought to concentrate force on them for one day to get them out, probably tomorrow unless they come out of their own accord. Otherwise they can just rest overnight and regenerate completely.”

“I don’t know whether they got the plan,” Reed reported as the left wing of the regiment advanced. “They did wipe out a set of bull riders, but haven’t advanced particularly to their own left, and frankly I’m worried that Sir William has gone too far ahead outside archery protection.”


“Impetuous boy,” sniffed the Inquisitor, turning his back for a moment to shake his head. “I know full well how much that recklessness can cost.”

“Razorwind has finally returned,” Torn announced. “He can give us a full idea of what’s waiting at the castle.” He flew ahead to just beyond the lake, and sent back coded loops and dives and wing-wobbles which she translated into a map.


“Still a lot of cavalry remaining,” Reed sighed. “I’m very seriously worried about Sir William’s chances now.”

“At least the archers aren’t guarding th’ weak spot right now,” Pint inferred from Torn’s report. “We could perhaps manage to thin out one of the worse threats quite a lot, instead of only removing the goblin spears.”

“An intriguing plan, Major. You have my permission,” Divine agreed.

So with two ranger harasses, a crossbow volley from Fitch, and Reed’s halberdiers...

...another orcish bull-rider squad was wiped completely out.

“Hm. My only regret so far is that I was unable to add anything,” the Inquisitor said. “I could go up and chastise the goblin spears...”

“In which case you’d be out front without any archery support,” Reed reminded him. “Everything in that castle would most likely fall on you.”

“Better on me than on anything else at this point,” the priest tried to say, but, “Not true,” Reed interrupted him. “You fight monsters; you live to kill things like trolls. Let’s wait and use you when we really need you, tomorrow. Okay, sir?” Dexter relented, and set up his own camp in front of the forest, guarding one of the crossbow flanks.

[Gamenote: if Divine didn’t have “slayer” as a skill, I’d try suiciding him into the goblins -- he hurt them hard, and probably several other things attacking him this turn, and since he isn’t Derrick Pfeil and thus not the player-character hero it doesn’t really matter if he ‘dies’, he’s only out of the mission till it’s over. However, if the trolls are still in the castle next turn, he could put a whomp on them.]

With two heroes simply sitting out apparently vulnerable like this, the enemy chose to javelin Master Brennock with hyenas and then send in war orcs -- gravely wounding him, but with plentiful crossbow support he managed to survive, and so would be ready to launch one last fireball on the final day of the siege.

[Gamenote: I was going to say that was foolish, but the AI might not have been able to see how well he was guarded compared to Sir William’s knights who were completely unguarded; and besides, in going this route they also JUST HAPPENED to block off all of Derrick’s access to the archers guarding the trolls. Coincidence? Maybe, but with this AI maybe not!]

The goblin spears came out all by themselves to try to kill Captain Divine -- who, to be fair, may have been goading them ostentatiously. [Gamenote: my only real explanation for that. ::) It was a silly move, but again the AI might not have noticed the crossbowmen behind him being out of visual range at first.]

This proved fatal. But not for him.

The final day of the siege dawned.


[Gamenote: that shows the eagle’s possible movements, but also nicely illustrates the grid for the fighting area today.]

“oh... hey!” Reed called. “I think Captain Pfeil figured out what we want to do!” A concerted push by Reed’s own crossbows, helping the leftward wing, and Lieutenant Brim’s swordsmen, shoved and ruined the war orc squad out of the way...

“They’re bringing up Sciff and the ballista! They’re going for it!”

“Those two by themselves might drive out the trolls,” Pint muttered.

“Wait, what is Captain Pfeil doing?” Torn wondered. “He’s... why go after those wounded...? HE’S GOING TO TAKE THE GOBLIN ARCHER DEFENSE STRIKE!”

“Of course!” marveled Reed. “Now anyone can attack the trolls with impunity!”

Sciff’s opening volley didn’t drive them out, but did kill a beast.

The Deathreed dared to move up into position to hit the trolls itself -- if this didn’t work, it would surely be wrecked by ramaging orcs! The log-sized pole shot into the courtyard and shattered among the beasts.

And then...

The soldiers cheered like mad: “Even trolls must fear the Deathreed!”

“Lieutenant Pint!” called the Inquisitor. “Take the castle!”

“It’s all over now but the beating!” Pint shouted as his rangers bobbed and weaved into the castle walls. “Get out! Get out of here if you want to live!” he cried as he and his men javelined the archers.

The exhausted Captain Divine cleared the final goblins out of the path for Reed’s troops to rush up, take the suburb village of Talsdorf, and chop at the retreating trolls.


The trolls kept on retreating, though, and Reed was unable to finish them off. Neither could Razorwind, unfortunately.

But Master Brennock could.

Soon, even the beating was over, as the few surviving orcs and goblins ran in routed groups to the south.

“No offense,” Reed told Pint, “but I think next time I’ll stick with Brim if I can. Woods and halberds don’t really mix.”

“We might not have made it without you,” he said. “I’m glad you came our way. Y’all might clank through trees like a bunch of shiny poofs... but those shiny chestplates gave us somewhere to rally around.”

“All the same: the fewer ambushes next time, the better!”

A few days later, King Victor sent his congratulations, his thanks... and a Lance of Glory.

“For the sake of our fallen yeomen, on horse and on foot,” said Captain Pfeil, “I will engrave their names on this lance, and give it to you, Sir William, to strike back against injustice in their name.”

“In memory of my father,” the young nobleman added. “Should he not live to see our victory. But if, God willing, I see him again, I pray to honor him with it all his life.” He and his knights had suffered badly on this campaign as well; many riding with him were mere novices still, called up to fill out his squad due to casualties.

“So,” said Torn. “I wonder how well anyone else did, the past fortnight, down the fort-line?”

The news came soon.

« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 09:56:01 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #33 on: January 16, 2015, 05:44:00 PM »
632 Summer -- The First Fall

“So, Axenose,” said Ugraum. “Have ever you seen the like of this land?”

“Yes. I was born here.”


“My mother and father met here; each had come to work on one of the monkey’s cities. Carrying out its trash, I think.

“I was born before a mob of monkeys slew my father. For sport, mother said. He was faithfully doing his job and they killed him.

“So she fled. Beyond the fortwall, beyond the settlements of monkeys where our lands should have been... back into the misery of the wastes.”

“These,” Ugraum spread his arms, “were once our lands. This is where we should have been. Long ago, before the fall of Farrock, we were driven out by an empire of the softskin apes, wearing their shiny armor. Eolia they called themselves, and also made war on elves, and dwarves. Then came the demon, called from the sky by their hexers. Elves and dwarves agreed to fight with the mon-keys. We did not. Some of us fought with Farrock. Many of us.

“Then the creature called Marcus slew Farrock. A daring and powerful deed, worthy of honor. None of us saw that it had to be done; or none of us could do it.

“Eolia fragmented later over the centuries. This land had become their breadbasket, but broke away on its own, long ago, during one of their wars among themselves.

“We were too weak to try to take it back for ourselves, then.

“Now... here we are.

“Are you glad to be back here, Axenose?”

“...honestly, general, I don’t know.

“But, I am glad to be killing monkeys.”

Ugraum nodded. “Study them now we are here. Study them, and study this land, and what they have done to it.”

Axenose nodded, though in some confusion, and looked out onto the fertile land before them.


“All the uru kin are following you,” graveled a voice from behind.

Turning with Ugram, Axenose saw the waste of the burning and looting of Derenhalle, as if the Waste itself had come up over the wall of forts.


They also saw Ash-hoon.

“Indeed,” Ugraum nodded. “Nothing succeeds like success, mm? And see the result.” He waved one arm widely as they looked behind.

“The power you have mustered with this horde chills the bones, truly,” Ash-hoon agreed in admiration. “The sheer destruction. Like living fire.”

“Some who have power, want more power,” the red orc said.

“And what do you want?” the orcan hexer asked.

Ugraum turned, thoughtfully, northward. “I want to go further forward. To Freiburg, the capital of this land. We will find much war beneath its walls.”

“Um... great Ugraum?” a timid wizened voice sought his attention. Sho-doon, the goblin hexer. “You really mean to attack Free-bur right now? I heard that the army of Big Derrig, the one who wiped out the Snake clan -- twice! -- is marching this way. Perhaps we should wait? And amass a larger force?”

“A larger force would surely succeed. And just as surely be meaningless, little friend,” Ugraum answered. “In order to learn, we must see clearly.”

The others looked at one another. Ash-hoon grumbled something about how hexers were supposed to sound mysterious, not warchiefs.

“The army of Derrig is still far away,” Ugraum assured them. “What I want to learn -- is where the leader of Derrenhalle is hiding. In Freiburg? Or out on the field, somewhere? Send out goblin scouts before us.”

Not much later the report came back: “The leader clad in steel with horses waits at a fortress north of the city -- on this side of the river!”

“Out on the field -- then he is not hiding, but rather has let you see him. He dies so his city may live; or escapes his city’s death, perhaps. Or, perhaps he wants us to split our forces, hoping each side will be too weak to succeed before more of his reinforcements arrive.

“Let it be so!” Ugraum declared. “But I shall not fight him. You shall, Axenose. With Sho-doon and with Ash-hoon, and with your ‘pans’ -- your goblin spears have recently returned, made more expert in their killing, off on forays without us! They can hide in plain sight, now, and ambush their prey with spears. Lead the weaker squad; take this horn of fury. [+1 to melee]

“Our hexers shall be the bait. Your pans, and the Night-shard panzers, and some goblin sneakers, shall be the trap. Lead them again with your bloody axe. Take some archers, too; the less experienced ones.

“I,” continued Ugraum, “shall take the orb of ice, and give it to one of the panzer orcs. Together they, and others of us who can cross a river easily, like Besegar and myself, shall fly across the river and approach the fabled capitol from the rear.”

“Shall our goblin bomber fly with you, general?” Axenose asked.

“Hm. I rather would send it with you, to help chase down and eliminate fleeing horsemen. There ought to be fewer archers over there, too; although your bomber crew has learned to fly high and so avoid most such damage. However, the monkeys have been training eagles recently, as we saw at the gates of Irland. I rather would find a way to counter those first...”

“We will have plenty of missileers among us, Ugraum. Any eagles would quickly die, I think. My goblins pilots are full of pride and bravery, general! -- let them come with our wing.”

“Well said! Then Besegar and I shall take the panzer orcs across the river. Our artillery will stay behind on this campaign: with most of the shooters going with you on their king-hunt, and the remaining squad in training, I would have little way to protect them from any eagles. The trolls would be too slow to cross the river, and shall stay to protect the artillery. The remaining panzer goblins will come with us as well -- the hyenas will find some ways across the river.”

“Won’t you be vulnerable too, to Eagles?”

“Let them come down. We will punch them!” promised one of the orc sergeants.

“And what if they learn from us, and stay up high to bomb you?” Axenose asked.


“Our panzer orc answered well; but so have you,” Ugraum judged. “Fortunately, I have been personally training your first squad of goblin archers, to trod their laziness out of them. Your people are naturally quick -- they should be faster than they are,” he chided. “Now, they will be as fast as proper panthers!” he laughed.

Before the separated into their tasks, Sho-doon announced: “I know that in one of the old stone houses, regarded as holy by the mon-keys, an artifact of power waits. They call it a ‘reliquia’. It should be on our way to hunt the monkey chief, Great Ugraum!”

Apparently none too pleased, Ash-hoon quietly growled, but added, “The hexers must have this power!”

“Ash-hoon -- this power will serve the horde. Now be gone, and do your duty,” Ugraum ordered. And looked knowingly at Axenose.


“I wonder,” Ash-shoon mused as the Axenose wing made their way to the Urakh, the ad-hoc staging area, “whether we ever shall see mighty Ugraum again?”

“I wonder,” Axenose mused, just as loudly, “whether mighty Ugraum shall ever see clever Ash-hoon again?”


“You do not know the size and power of Free-burg,” growled the hexer. “It is like nothing at all in the Wastes. I do not make idle threats, little goblin.”

“I know well the size and power of Freiburg,” Axenose retorted. “And I know that it shall be whittled down by a sword of stone very soon.”

“And what will you do, when Ugraum falls someday?”

“Continue my duty, for which he will have died: to learn whatever he wants us to learn by being here. And what will you do, if Ugraum falls someday, may I ask?”

“What I always do. As always,” was the answer. The goblin commander rolled his eyes at this -- but as the orc settled for the moment in the urakh to wait for the advance, Axenose went on in front of him, feeling like a target hung from his back. Would Sho-doon, his fellow goblin, help protect him?

A sudden, poignant pang: Axenose wished he could trust anyone, anyone at all, to help him.

But he had business to do. So he got down to business.

« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 09:57:55 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #34 on: January 16, 2015, 05:55:26 PM »
“What do they see?” he asked a liaison for the bomber squad. Flashes of mirrored light always were flickering between them.


“Scouts not far from the holy house,” came the reply. “And in the twin villages nearby, toward our right... peasants and militia at least.”

“No archers?” Axenose wondered. “The bomber cannot be sure yet,” came the expected answer.

“We can go forward a little at a time,” the Nightshard sergeant suggested. “And then strike, as you see fit.”

[Gamenote: another huge advantage to skirmishers like the hyenas and the goblin sneakers, thanks to the segmented movement ability, which they get for free -- though just about any troop can train for it. An advantage I often forget about, by the way.]

No archers, oddly enough, in the shadow of the distance behind the villages -- but plenty of feudal knights!

“Hmm... signal the bomber to tell the Nightshards to stay back, don’t go in for attack yet,” Axenose told the liaison. “Right now they’re invisible. Before they announce their presence, let us make sure that we can support them. Now, Sho-doon: can you reach the holy house today?” he asked. Someone else could reach it if necessary, and it seemed a long way for the little goblin, but he thought he ought to ask -- and not ask Ash-hoon!

“Yes, Great Axenose! I have been training with Ugraum and the panzers!” he proudly beamed.

“Well!” Axenose was pleased to hear it, and also pleased at the honorific. Come to think of it, Ugraum himself had commanded smaller companies in the past. “Let us try this, then. I will take the pans up the road, near those scouts; you come up to the holy house, and we will guard each other. Once you have found it, you can spit your derision on the scouts, yes? -- and if they can be worn down enough we’ll finish them off. Or if they run, we’ll hide in the dust and be ready to ambush anyone trying to hurt you.”

Sho-doon readily agreed; but as Axenose approached the bright stone house...


...lightning licked to life around it, and it blew his soldiers down and across the road.

Snarling, Axenose got his goblins back in order immediately -- and signaled his archers to set the building on fire.


“What are you doing!?” Ash-hoon demanded to know. “I told you I needed this power! I could have removed the barrier in a few days, and we could have taken the artifact! It didn’t even hurt your men, not even a little,” he sneered. Sho-doon was morosely trying to pick through the ruins.


“Then complain to Ugraum when you see him again. If you see him again, I mean. If he thinks I have done wrong, I am sure he will make me pay. Meanwhile, I have monkeys to fight,” Axenose said. He thought he could explain his action to his general. He hoped he could. He signaled Sho-doon to attack, wondering where the little goblin hexer would actually spit.


That seemed reassuring. The manic little man danced a victory jig behind him; Axey took his team down in the dirt per the plan.

With no shooters able to move up far enough to support a Nightshard attack, they waited invisibly per their orders; sneakers invisibly crept up beside them, leaving a number of shooters and the 1st pans squad apparently open for easy pickings. The bomber cautiously advanced, being careful to stay near where a shooter could guard it from eagles as necessry.


No bowmen still appeared at the dual villages by the following morning, but Axenose knew the king couldn’t be far beyond those knights -- it made no sense at all for the knights to be waiting behind the village, unless they were standing advance for a larger group. A much larger group.

“Still,” he thought, “those villages would give us a little more protection against charging horses, if we can take them. Though better to lure their protectors out if we can, into an ambush.”

So throughout the day, the skirmishers hit the militia repeatedly, as did archers; the hexers in turn hit the peasants further behind. The 1st pans hastened up and hid, hoping to lure some horsemen into attacking the hexers. The 2nd pans, since they had previously hidden, couldn’t do so again for a while once revealing themselves, but Axenose thought they might as well work on the militia further: give the enemy a hard route to go, and maybe he would choose the apparently easier one?

After thinning the village militia, the Nightshards went off to hide and scout on the road near a small copse of trees, still not seeing the king but certainly finding more of his retinue of lesser knights nearby.


The bomber took a bit of a risk, flying outside the protective shooter envelope to continue whittling the scouts previously attacked by Sho-doon, so that they wouldn’t get any ideas.


With preparations made, Axenose waited.

He didn’t have long to wait.

First a ballista wheeled out of the castle down the road. That was bad news for his pans.


Its shocking blast caused real trouble. But the trouble was only beginning.


Two different sets of crossbowmen came out and showered them, too.

“Enough of this! Into the town!” Axenose hustled them as fast as he could go, before they broke and routed utterly.

But that didn’t save them.

Not from the eagle which flew from the fort and cut them apart on the ground, now that they were beyond direct archery support.


And not from the landless knights who, despite being minor cavalry, still were heavy enough to ride his broken spearmen down completely.

They fought bravely.


Till the end.

Cursing, Axenose crept away to find the other pans; while yet more minor knights rode out to try to run the archers off the hill.

That didn’t work so well.


The archers held surprisingly strong, under the circumstances, helped by support from Sho-doon.

Then more experienced, better armed and armored feudal knights rode forth to reclaim the village and immediately charged the sneakers.


That sally, however, failed utterly; partly thanks to the slingers throwing hard before the charge; and partly thanks to Ash-hoon ripping reality and the knights apart together!


Last that day, doughty spearmen ran up to the woods near the hyneas and tried to spear them.


The Nightshards well-acquitted themselves, breaking the spearmen instead.

“To lose your vaunted pans,” Ash-hoon tsk’d that night, “such a shame. While under your command.”

“They still were inexperienced, hexer, which was why I commanded them. And even then, they bravely stood hit after hit after hit, from everything that the enemy could hurl! I will slaughter their foes in their memory,” Axenose promised, and went out to recover the horn of fury.

[Gamenote: fortunately, in Fantasy Wars (and EL, its sequel), magic items can’t be lost or worse picked up by the enemy when their carriers die. They just go back to HQ, where they can be couriered to other units on the field for 25 gold. In fact, any item can be sent back home for free and shuffled to a new unit for 25 gold at any time; this is one trick for letting multiple units use the sphere of cold to get over rivers! -- if one has the gold for it. I haven’t needed to use that trick yet, by the way. I would rather have saved the horn, and the money, for another unit, but I felt under the circumstances I had better keep the “pans” as beefed as possible: these were more experienced but could still be handily wiped out! Losing a unit of goblin killers, as I had upgraded these before the mission, was no small problem, especially as this left only one melee-dedicated troop on this side of the operation. On the other hand... oh, son. You know I know what time it is...!]

Having found and recovered the horn, Axenose quickly sent word to all the troops: “Tomorrow, fall back toward the Urukh! But do so in formation, with interlocking cover from the shooters! And hit whatever you safely can as you withdraw!”

“A stunning plan, to run away. Just like a goblin,” Ash-shoon observed.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. Most of us here are goblins. I would say you’re welcome to stay behind and show us how orcs should stand and fight instead -- but you aren’t welcome. To stay behind I mean,” Axenose added. “I order you to fall back in good form and help keep the protection overlapped. Do you have a problem with that order?”

“...our problems will be settled some other time, little commander.”

“Maybe Ugraum can settle our problems once we’ve finished destroying the king, here.”

“What?! But you’re running away.”

“And that’s what they’ll think, too. Now shoot the enemy hard, and hoof it, O wise one! Specifically, shoot the eagle -- our bomber will be better able to support us without it.”


“I promptly slay my enemies, little commander,” Ash-doon demonstrated before he withdrew.

“Good -- promptly slay some more tomorrow or later today, too!”

Before his own withdrawal, Axenose sent the pans to finish off the heavily wounded squad of feudal knights so that they wouldn’t have to be dealt with again, later.


The sneakers, the Nightshards, and Sho-doon shot hard into a much more relatively unhurt group of landless knights before withdrawing; by then, the knights had been punctured down to a final unwounded stalwart.


Axenose took a hard gamble -- and ordered the bombers to finish the knights, which it easily did.


“But Axenose!” cried Sho-doon in astonishment. “The triggered side-bows -- !”

“May or may not try to shoot them down. I hope they try. With the eagle dead, only their crossbows have a chance of killing the bomber, and that armored bomber knows how to float high! I’d rather they chased after it than follow us!

“We need a day to recover -- a day we may not get, but if they chase us they’ll string out a little, while we stay packed together to hit the next forces. And then...” Axenose grinned.

“And then what?” Sho-doon asked, with only a touch of wary curiosity.



“To you, o trolls, I give the horn of fury!!

“Didn’t you wonder what I did with the horn last night? I made some arrangements. There shall be no survivors,” Axenose declared, as most of his allies madly cheered the troll team cracking up from the hills nearby.


[Gamenote: if I could, I would spend all my money on trolls. With archery support, of course. But still. Skirmishers are admittedly more useful overall. BUT STILL! Also, I saved 25 gold. :) ]

Just as Axenose expected, the crossbows went for the bomber. Just as he expected, they barely hit at all.

Somewhat unexpectedly no one chased them. But that was fine. It gave everyone time to rest, although --

“The archers need reinforcements,” grumbled the goblin commander, “not just rest. We’ll have to wait two days before we start again.”

“But we have plenty of time! ...don’t we Axenose?” Sho-doon hadn’t restored the honorific yet, but the goblin commander figured there would be time enough for that later.

“Yes, but it would be best if we could loot the area thoroughly, and then give support to Ugraum as he invades the capitol. I doubt he has started yet, but he may by two days from now.

“Meanwhile -- you told the bomber to hunt those crossbows to death?” he growled to the signaler.

“Not only that, they see the king!”

“Hmmm... in the castle now? Yes, no matter, the crossbows are the more important threat right now -- once they’re gone, the bomber can truly fight with impunity.”


The following day, as new reinforcements arrived for his archers, Axenose impatiently waited to hear the news from the bomber:

“One crossbow squad, now destroyed!

“Damage is starting to add up, though. They may need to fly away and spend a day repairing before dealing with the next squad.”

“I understand. Let’s wait and see how they handle today, first. Meanwhile, are they saying anything else? I see a lot of flashing.”

“Yes, the king has apparently called in reinforcements from a wooden fort farther down the road. Many, many swordsmen, and a stone thrower!”


“Ugh. We’ll just have to kill them slowly as we go, I guess. Tomorrow we begin again. What are you doing, Sho-doon?” Axenose asked curiously.

“Great Ugraum! -- he sends a request for healing, and I am answering!”

“And I,” said Ash-hoon, “am answering his request...”


“ kill.”

“... .... oh, yes, now I recall. You saved our lives this way, when we first met. When we were liberating the trolls, yes? Who are you killing, can you tell?”

“...not really,” the orc hexer admitted. “But based on the impression I am receiving from our general, it helped a lot.”

“Hm. How does that work exactl-- oh, never mind, trade secret, I understand,” Axenose grumped, and went back to overseeing the polish and armor fit for all his company.

Day 6, Axenose carefully managed his company up just out of immediate range of the enemy. The bomber continued bombing the crossbows, seeing that it still had a day or two before it absolutely had to find a place to make repairs.

On Ugraum’s unworded request, Ash-hoon sent yet another ice ball hammering out of the sky into part of the massive city-castle, but to what avail (other than apparent approbation from the general) Axenose couldn’t tell.

The advancement ended, Axenose hoped, just outside the area at which the enemy would see them, with a fairly simple line of fighters up front, and an equally wide line of supporting shooters behind.

“Before you say anything,” Axenose told Ash-hoon, “consider this: the enemy will hit us hard with everything he has, as soon as he sees us. So I want to make sure that he sees us when we are making him as weak as possible through slaughter! Then, he will have less strength to his us back. Also, on our advance we will gain the two villages which, in their arrogance, they leave wide open -- perhaps out of fear,” he mused, “since we slew many of them from just outside their fences. They won’t provide much extra cover to weather their counterattack, but some is better than nothing; and we also will gain that hill, which will give a little more protection, too.”

Thanks to this careful maneuvering, and also the refusal of the king to press on forward to find his enemies and crush them, nothing further happened that day; and as the bomber began its daily reducement of the crossbows again on the morning of the 7th campaign day, Axenose attacked.

Progressively, the Axenose Corpz shattered most of the enemy’s front line: Sho-doon the goblin hexer, and Ash-hoon the orcan hexer, teamed with the Nightshards to drive away the feudal knights, leaving only three unwounded; the goblin sneakers and archers hit the lesser knights so badly that they ran away, broken and harassed, before they could lose too many toops; and the trolls joined Axenose in pounding the local militia squad.

Only the spearmen in the small copse of trees on the left of the goblin line were spared. The bomber signaled many swordsmen still were coming forward; the spearmen could hardly be discounted as enemies; and still the artillery pieces remained to harshly pound the goblins. But would Axenose’s lines be able to hold, and hit back tomorrow with enough strength to keep the fight going?

That night, Axenose wasn’t so sure. The counterattack had begun with the ballista rolling up to drive poor Sho-doon back in abject terror, leaving the goblin right-flank unsupported. The enemy king, in his fury, had sent both sets of wounded knights to die on the spears of the Nightshards and the Pans; but after a further attack on the hyenas by the nearby spearmen, unhurt in the goblin assault, the king himself had ridden forth and finished off the exhausted Nightshards by himself! -- a shocking feat of prowess Axenose would have said was impossible!

The enemy militia, emboldened by their king’s amazing victory, despite being weakened and broken, found the little swords of the goblin archers to be more than a match; but the catapult calmly ruined the archers afterward and then simply rolled away. Meanwhile the first of the swordsmen reinforcements arrived, and the goblin spears had to fight hard once again to avoid being over-run.

“Well,” Axenose sighed, “we know where the monkeychief is now. We could attack him tomorrow, but even if we killed him... no, we need to fall back again, out of their sight -- especially of the Victor’s,” as his troops had called him, “and recover. But hit them as safely as we can, first, before we go. Losing the Nightshard panzers -- a bitter blow indeed. But we will have traded, in effect, two full squads of knights and a militia for them. We can still win, but first we need to rest.”
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:00:50 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #35 on: January 16, 2015, 06:04:10 PM »
And so on day 8, with the sneakers, the trolls, Ash-hoon and the pans themselves providing a hard lesson to the monkeys, the Axenose Corpz withdrew once more.

The ninth day, as they rested, the bombers not only reported that many of the swordsmen had retreated back to the castle, but that they had finally disposed of the persistent crossbows!

“Excellent. If they continue to refuse to pursue what advantages they have, I will give them a terrible surprise tomorrow,” Axenose promised. It was certainly a surprise to learn the swordsmen and surviving spearmen had retreated back to the castle anyway!

Day 10. “In effect, we have three serious problems, and not all can be dealt with,” Axenose told the others as they met to move forward.

“First, the swordsmen have pulled back to safety, except from the bomber; which means they will be able to move forward and hit us at their full strength once we advance again -- though not without suffering from our shooting defenses!

“Second, their artillery is highly dangerous. I do think we can dispose of it all today, before they can hurt us again; but I am not sure we can do so without leaving the third problem at full strength.

“Third: the Victor chief. He is not named Victor for nothing. The bomber reports he and a ballista still stand forward, arrogantly waiting and watching for our return. This will cost his ballista dearly,” Axenose promised, to a chorus of eager growls. “But can we weaken the king enough to keep him from joining with his swords to hurt us badly after all? I don’t know.”

“If Ugraum does not request my service today,” Ash-hoon said, “I can horrify the victory-chief so that he will be very weakened to our attacks, and unable to hurt us badly.”

“Oh? You have grown stronger in our struggle!” Axenose tried to sound as sincerely appreciative as he could. “Well, then -- I have made some arrangements yesterday while we rested; wait until you see them! And wait till our enemy does!” he laughed.


Once again the goblin horde (and trolls and orcan hexer) surged forward into Jaegersheim and Wittenshorste, those two unfortunate villages -- and right up to the ballista and the king!


“Ugraum indicates that if I can save my horror, we may be able to win Freiburg tomorrow!” Ash-hoon alerted the goblin commander. “He even insists that without it, we won’t be able to take the castle in time to gain the greatest rewards.”

“Oh? Then let us do what we can to unnerve the king today, if not destroy him outright. First surprise achieved!” Axenose announced. “Trolls, you have the honor!”


The Corpz had fallen so quickly on the foe, that the goblin killers actually heard the ballista crew joking among themselves that they were sure to slay the trolls if ever they raised their stony little fists again! [Gamenote: the ballista actually leveled up and the AI gave it the “Slayer” perk. So I’m glad to be rid of it at last!] The trolls’ stony fists indeed were raised -- and they took a surprising amount of damage from the zealous defense of the crew! -- but the crew of the spear-thrower panicked and pushed the engine away... quite the wrong direction.

“Surprise number two! AVENGERS, ASSEMBLE!!”

From seemingly nowhere, goblin crews pulled cables and hammered pegs and then...


...the goblins’ own artillery rose, and struck out against their foes!

The enemy catapult, spooked and scarred by the Skyjustice Spear, rumbled for the hills.

“Signal the bomber,” Axenose ordered: “COME HERE, ATTACK THE KING!”

“But... Great Axenose,” Sho-doon wondered, and the goblin silently glowed at the praise, “it will come back! It has steel-shod wheels, and a long reach!”

“It might, good elder, but only if the crew refuse to recover themselves. They will attack only weakly; and will be even easier to destroy tomorrow. The king hits hard today, unless we stop him.”

So a concentrated bombardment fell on the king: first rapidly sporing bang-mold from Ash-hoon, and Sho-doon’s spit. Then the catapult, Balls Breaker, crushed his will to fight and drove him back. Finally the goblin bomber scattered explosive shells on him from above.

He survived. But with the bomber hanging near, he wouldn’t be able to recover, only escape on the morrow.


But the swordsmen, seeing the plight of their foolhardy, arrogant king, surged forward again from the fortress known as Seelberg.

The seekers, blasted by the catapult after all, in their trees, and then overrun by swordsmen, took the worst of it; only a couple of goblins fled unharmed, dragging their wounded. Ash-hoon ably fended off a surprising number of swordsmen, with archery support, scattering their bodies on the ground around his smug smirk!

No one dared to attack the trolls -- and Axenose wondered, in a moment of grudging clarity, whether he ought to petition Ugraum to replace the Pans with the rocky things, while he desperately fought off waves of spears and swords.

But he lost no squads completely; and Ugraum indicated that in fact they still had three days remaining before the assault began to slip behind schedule -- or two days, starting day 11.

“Don’t let the king rest, keep harassing him!” Axenose signaled the bomber, which promptly complied, doing a bit of damage to the king in his castle, too. “We probably won’t be able to reach him today...” he groused. “Sneakers, go find somewhere to rest. We must keep up the pressure on these swordsmen, to have any hope of breaking a hole tomorrow!

“Wait, Ash-hoon, before you summon your spirits to strike the swords or spears: I know you will need to cast the horror tomorrow, for Ugraum -- is that right? Yes? Do you have enough strength for a bang mold today, against the king?”

“Yes, but after that I will need to rest for a week or more. I can still cast the horror tomorrow, but,” confessed the hexer, grudgingly, “I do not believe the mold will be enough to kill that king.”

“Never mind. Not today, but unless he rests in the castle after all and regains a little strength, tomorrow the bomber may be able to kill him, even if we can’t reach him ourselves.”

“...clever. Very clever. You might make a good horde leader, Axenose.”

“We have one already, but thank you for the compliment. Now... what can we do to minimize our losses today...?

“Skyjustice Spear: kill that stone thrower!” The catapult thought it had moved out of range; it was wrong. And soon wrecked. [Gamenote: sadly, I didn’t get a good snapshot of its final demise.]


The bang-mold spored as requested, further weakening the Victor.

And with a careful set of cooperative attacks, a swordsman squad was eliminated, two more wounded and forced to retreat, and the spearman squad also suffered more losses though still it remained in the fight.

The Pans held off two grave sallies by the spears and broken swordsmen, but at the end of the day the goblin killers controlled the field.


Ash-doon cast his spell of horror, thumping his drum and dancing.

“Do you see anything?” Axenose anxiously asked.

“An island fort. The city behind the fort, almost taken.”

“I remember that fort very well,” Axenose nodded, snarling. “A moat around it makes it hard to strike at, or impossible from the lake on one side.”

“Swords in the fort, city fighters, well armored. Above them, two eagles to swoop down and cut whoever tries. Bull riders, bravely walk around the enemy, down into the moat... Sho-doon! Heal them, they may survive!” The goblin, instructed on where to send the life-energy, rapidly did so. “Goblin archers add a wound or two, shooting over the water and the walls. Ehhhh... the squad you call the panzer goblins, could also go in the moat, but... Ugraum strides onto the bridge from the city, striking first! -- taking upon himself the cuts of the bird from above. The swordsmen simply flee!”

[Gamenote: I’m not entirely sure I really understand what happened here. Panzer General games often have a mechanic where a unit hit hard and repeatedly enough may surrender outright and disappear, if they cannot retreat. But these still had a bridge they could have crossed? Even though it was in the zone of control of the bull riders, that still seems legal. Still, on rare occasion I’ve seen something like a surrender in this game, although the game doesn’t call it that or anything really, unlike in, for example, Panzer General. ;) ]

“The goblins you call panzers, they ride in and take it! Free-bur has fallen!!” Ash-hoon shouted across the land.

“Do you hear, oh ‘Victory’ chief?! You shall be next!” Axenose promised. “And Seel-bar after!”

Victor had rested however after all, back to half his strength.

“Argh... signal the bomber: don’t attack unless the king runs out. Come forth!” Axenose called. “Clear the way to the castle!”


The slingers couldn’t quite kill the broken swordsmen bravely trying to block the way to their king, but did harass them enough to drive them off. Yet, between them and another small squad of swordsmen on the path, the road to the castle remained blocked.

“ARGH! ARCHERS!” But although they took out another couple of swordsmen, the monkeys fatalistically stood their ground.


[Gamenote: I’ve got my trolls selected here; they have a movement of three, which over the plains should get them to one or another of two hexes in front of the castle -- but those swordsmen still block with zones of control!]

“Hexers, out of the way, left and right! Can the artillery get through?”

Axenose himself led the Pans out into the grassy plains to try to push the swordsmen further -- but they still wouldn’t budge!


“Send the trolls forward!” That made room for both artillery pieces; the trolls tore apart some swordsmen meanwhile.

“Balls Crusher first: then if he runs away, the Skyjustice Spear will still have the range!” As it happened, the stone thrower didn’t route the king; but the spear-hurler did.



That day, outside the woodland walls of stone, among the pine and leafy trees, on a path to a sunwashed bay...

...Victor of Derenhalle fell.

His troops fled the area, unable to rally after the rushing onslaught of the orcs. Other towns and guardian forts, watching for trouble from Leranse to the north, secure in their southern fort-wall, fallen, fled for their lives at the coming of the horde.

 “In your land, a goblin should have been safe,” Axenose said to the mighty Victor who still clung to the life that seeped away from his fingers. “But still my father died, and my mother returned to nothing... worse than nothing.

“Your land... it wasn’t safe for even a king. Was it.”

“I... I wanted to helLLCKKPpppp...” the monkey gargled, a wound in his lung tearing open.

“Now we will take all we want. And leave you with garbage. Does your nose itch?” The goblin tickled it. “Don’t sneeze. Don’t sneeze!” Unable to resist, the king sneezed at last... blowing out his life in utter pain, and choking, unable to inhale. “Heh.”

Axenose wanted to laugh, as he wiped the splattered blood away from his face; not a soft face and furry-bearded face, unlike the mighty monkey’s, dying inside his shell.

But then, oddly, he didn’t feel like laughing, either, after all.

“...great Axenose,” bowed Sho-doon, deeply, as the goblin commander walked away from the purpling victor who, now, had lost everything. Much as Itchynose’s father had died, in that street, his ribcage crushed and unable to breathe. Merely for being in the way of a noble, armored horseman.

“Am I? We all did this. Together. Troll, and orc; hexer and spear; stone and pointed stave. Goblin and orc together took the Free-bur, too. All of us, together, overran the fort-walls -- and have taken our land again.

“Ugraum taught us that.

“Ugraum brought us to this.

“We have learned our lesson, now.”

But when Ugraum heard this later, he asked:

“...have you?”
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:03:16 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #36 on: January 17, 2015, 12:22:01 PM »
632 Summer -- A Land They Came To Die In

“Still going to gripe about ship travel?”

“,” Reed answered Brim. “Not this week anyway.”

As Pfeil’s Regiment had been consolidating the defense of the northern spur of the Derenhalle Wall, news had come from King Victor that the southern wall at Irand had been breached. With forces being pulled back from the wall, piecemeal, to try to stem the advancing orcish thrust, other forts along the wall had steadily been overrun by what some people thought might be the total orcish population of the Waste. Too many bodies to stop.

Colonel Pfeil, assessing the situation, had anticipated a general recall order to shore up defenses around the Derehalle capital, Freiburg, and its heartlands. And so, having arranged a general evacuation across the massive bay to safer lands behind Freiburg, and standing rearguard until the ships had done their duty, he had assigned a few ships to bring his company down to the Freiburg area with all possible speed.


“Thank God in heaven the goblins can’t make ships large enough to transport troops.”

“Yet,” Brim dolefully answered Reed.

“Nor anytime soon, I expect,” retorted Reed. “All they seem able to do is burn and steal.”

“And turn their little boats into bombers,” Brim pointed out. He didn’t bother nervously watching the sky; archers and shipmen were doing that already. But he was nervous.

They landed northwest of the capital, and marched down to the village of Estzum.

As they waited for Pint’s second ranger squad, the most experienced of the group, to send back news, Colonel Pfeil gathered his troops to explain the situation.

“I’m going to be blunt,” he began. “You’ve seen what the uru do to the lands they inhabit. They turn the land into waste. They’re already starting here, in the gardens of this land.

“The bad news is that it looks as though all the uru kind, trolls and goblins and orcs alike, have left the waste.

“The good news is that, mostly, they are unorganized. Even with all that power, the forts could still have held them back, if Irand hadn’t fallen.

“The bad news is that whoever that red giant is we’ve been hearing about, the Grim Uru, he is teaching the orcs to be organized.

“The good news is that if we can find him and kill him, before he gets too far, the uru horde will fall to pieces, squabbling impotently among themselves. It’ll take time, and hard work, but we can push them back again beyond the fortline. And continue pushing them west, as we settle the lands beyond, reclaiming them from the waste the orcs have made of them.

“The bad news is that the Grim Uru has gotten this far already.

“The good news is that we must certainly have gotten ahead of him, by using the merchant navy of Sylent!” And of Derenhalle, to be fair, but Sylent’s ships had done the heavier lifting, and Reed understood that they would expect to be praised -- and amply rewarded. Political reality. “He can’t have gotten past Freiburg already; have any of you ever seen it in person? That powerful fortress could hold out for months against every orc of the waste put together! Yes, yes, we can see the smoke in the distance to the south; the orcs are here already and doing their usual burning and looting. But if we can organize resistance in the area, we can hit any siege from the side, and catch them in a pincer between our hammer and the Rock of Freedom!” Cheers from the men. “Now let’s get ready to go meet one of the finest kings in the world, and earn even more of his gratitude than we’ve...! hm? Already?” A courier was signaling to him from not far away. “The scouts have sent back word; officers, come with me, and let’s... what?”

“That... that isn’t possible,” rasped Colonel Pfeil, his face blanching. On an eyed agreement, Brim and Reed started chivvying the troops away to go make preparations; but the colonel raised his voice and called them back.

“...I’m going to be blunt,” he told them as he raised his hand. “I want you to know what’s going on.

“We’re too late. Freiburg has fallen already.

“The orcs control all the lands this side of the fjord. From the smoke... our guess is that they already are hitting the other side, near Fort Seelberg, pretty hard.”

“...this little regiment is supposed to stop an orcan army strong enough to take Freiberg?!” one of the soldiers piped up, others voicing similar doubt.

“That’s right. You said it exactly right!” Reed shouted. “We’re the only ones nearby to help save the people! And when those orcs see us slicing them into lox, they’ll ask themselves just how much more badly they’ll be beaten when more reinforcements arrive, and they’ll run away -- just like every time before!”

“There’s a man,” said Colonel Pfeil, “who just this past winter forked hay for quailnests! That’s what he can do! Many of you have come just as far in even less time!

“So: reed up! War is work, as much as anything, and that’s good news.

“Because those uru obviously, demonstrably, don’t know how to work! They don’t even care to!

« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:04:07 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #37 on: January 17, 2015, 12:31:05 PM »

“Two weeks,” Colonel Pfeil commanded: “If we can sanitize this area in two weeks, this land will become a myth to the orcs. A land they came to die in. I want them to tell stories to each other, for centuries to come, about how even if they ever did breach the forts again, they would only awaken a wave of death to devour them.”

He wasn’t even shouting. He said it as calm as a glassy sea -- a sea of fire and glass.

Pint’s second squad of rangers would stay disparate, acting as scouts embedded in each of the squads, fanning out into the land before them. The three peasant squads would stay rearguard, ready to activate into various roles, securing liberated villages.

[Gamenote: I have 19 squads or heroes, and can only bring 15. The peasants will be handy to replace any losses, because they all have some experience and can be directly upgraded into any infantry role, and even into light skirmish cav.]

“Orc bully-boys in Orrtung,” came the first reports, “backed by at least one squad of goblin archers! The orcs are rubbish, the goblins look like they know what they’re doing. [Note: level 2 already, and will go to level 3 immediately, giving the computer the option to pick a perk that looks most helpful under the circumstances. The map designers can be devious as hell. ;) ]

“So,” said the High Priest of the Sword. “They shall be the first to go into the consuming fire.”

“Don’t forget Merhoste nearby,” said Reed. “We don’t know what’s waiting there yet at all; whatever it is could hit us from the side very easily.”

But down the road in the distance, Reed could see many plumes and a blocky guard-tower, which must be... which must have been... Freiberg.


[Gamenote: this is exactly the same map as the horde campaign mission I just fought, with some cosmetic differences; but I never got to this part of it, because I never got beyond Freiberg, so it’ll look different at first. Here’s what Derrick can see right now if he looks leftward, westward, across the fjord...


...that wooden fort burning was Krotburg, where the catapult and all the reinforcement swordsmen came from to shut down Axenose’s advance, last mission. That little flag ‘above’ Pfeil’s head, to the left of the small mountain? That’s Seelberg Fort, where the mission ended. We’ve got two weeks, or 15 days more precisely, to work our way over there, settling goblin hash along the way.]

Pint and his dark clad rangers went first, carefully sneaking through the grass and trees between the small stone fort and the farming village, staying to a little right of the road. “At least two groups of mads, and a squad of goblin robbers,” he signaled back.


“They haven’t seen us yet. Cannot completely confirm no archers yet, but only one if so, probably. Possibly no more archers behind Orttung either.”

[Gamenote: with the segmented movement ability inherent to skirmish units, like the rangers, I can move them forward one hex at a time, staying just outside the enemy’s sight radius. Unfortunately, doing that didn’t allow me to tell for sure if I’ve seen the extent of the enemy on either side of the road. I know more than I did, but not quite enough for a safe approach.]

Pint’s other scouts approached through the burning remnants of forest along the fjord; confirmed no further archers behind Orttung, and started jav’ing the ones that were there.

The ballista crew, eager to be moving ahead to relieve the Rock of Freedom as soon as possible that week, almost got into trouble when they drew up next to a squad of goblin sneakers parked in the woods near the road! The ballista shot on the orc mob in the fort anyway, and hoped the rest of the regiment would bail them out sufficiently; Pfeil couldn’t reach the farming village today anyway, so would keep his forces leftward of Pint and hit them on the morrow after liberating Orttung -- if all went to plan. Torn sent Razorwing to cut up more cowering archers, driving them into the river which emptied into the fjord; and Fitch’s crossbows set up on a hill behind the Deathreed to start working on the sneakers.

Master Brennock and Braun’s Ronin Cav soon cleared the sneakers; and the remaining crossbows came up to start on the mob. After some further preparation, Colonel Pfeil led the first charge which got the orcs out of the fort; and Captain Reed’s halberds mopped them on the road.


Major Divine and Captain Brim brought the other halberds and Sir William’s cavalry over toward the farming village, ready to attack on the morrow but still outside their detection.

Not far down the road, the Rock of Freedom could now be seen more clearly.


Torn, via Razorwind’s trained spotting signals, reported a full squad of 15 battle orcs, and three trolls, waiting inside the city; no telling how many others, yet.

Despite Pint’s careful maneuvering, the mads beyond Merhoste got word of the advance -- possibly from surviving archers who tried a weak volley against the third ranger squad before fleeing back to Freiberg. The results weren’t pretty. Braun’s cavalry, and Pint’s rangers, each repelled a ferocious though ill-disciplined attack, each pushed back in consequence, and losing men -- yet Pint almost annihilated the mads who dared to attack him!

“So they’ve come to us! That’ll make things easier tomorrow,” Brim observed.

“Yeah? My men are telling me there are hyena tracks all over the place. There must be a large detachment of goblin skirmisher cavalry around here somewhere,” Pint returned. “Watch yourselves tomorrow.”

The next morning, the Deathreed’s crew entered the small castle on the road. “No one survived here,” their sergeant reported, his face pale and green. “...the defenders chose death, over being captured by orcs.”

“I will pray for their souls,” said Colonel Pfeil. “And the Reverend Father will pray for the souls of the goblin bows you’ll finish off today in front of Freiberg!”

“At once!” the sergeant saluted -- and made it so.

The rest of the day was spent with various troops resting, eliminating the remaining orc raiders, flushing the goblin robbers out of Merhoste and finishing them off -- Sir William D’Quazir was given the honor of their final blow.


“We’ve spread out a little too far,” said the colonel that night. “Tomorrow, I want us to get lined up for the first push on Freiberg.”

They woke up that next morning, though, to a hideous surprise:

“Goblin raiders have taken Estzum! Behind us!”


“The peasants stationed there simply scattered and fled,” the Red Raven growled. “But they told us of at least three squads of hyena skirmishers, one of them very well armored and doubtless the leader.”

“They had their orders, Master Brennock,” Father Divine explained. “And their orders were to flee against any serious opposition, so that we might use them later. They followed their orders, and so, consequentially, we know what happened: a long range patrol was watching the fjord for invasion, on the other side of the mountains from where we approached. They got bored, or received a signal, and so have cut us off.”


“Well, we didn’t want things to be too easy, capturing an undefeatable fortress this week,” Brim grumbled.

“We have one day to reorient to receive their attack! Get back around,” Pfeil ordered. “Into a strong defensive formation! Remember, they can sneak around our edges, and ignore our zones of control!

“I’ll anchor the defense in the middle. [Gamenote: he has tactician skill which increases defense for all adjacent allies.] Reed, you anchor right flank and be ready to cycle your halberds in and out; defend the ballista because our archers won’t do much against those fast riders -- especially the armored ones! Once they know it’s there, they’ll try to get around the corners. Brim, you and Braun anchor the left wing. Master Brennock, center behind me, crossbows left and right in the trees either side, tucked in behind the wings. Father Divine: you stay there and rest up today; I may have to cycle out soon and let you take my place.

“Today they’re going to come up and hit those of us who can’t hit back, myself especially since I’m the leader, though the Red Raven, and Razorwing, will help me with that. Tomorrow, they’re going to try to get around us, but we’ll deal with that when it happens.

“I sincerely hope I meet whoever arranged this little... diversion,” the colonel gritted between his teeth.

“I sincerely hope the uru in Freiberg don’t decide to ram us up the rear, or even know what’s happening here...” muttered Brim; in his position, he would be one of the few in place to catch the brunt of that blow.


“Here they come!” “What are they yelling?!” “What the hell is a panzer?” “Or an axenose??”

The first group tried to take the hill near many vulnerable shooters.


“SURPRISE!” yelled Pint as he and his men leapt from concealment.

“Leave my friends alone THIS INSTANT!” Torn demanded, directing her eagle to strike.

“Behold! -- a miracle of justice!” Father Divine declared, as only one survivor limped away, others wounded dragging along behind.

[Gamenote: no lie, that was a massive opening win for me in that defense.]

The leader of the goblin raiders understood the weakest part of the line, however, must have been Reed’s halberds -- only one shooter to aid his defense, a hill from which to strike down on him, and no way for him to hit back.

“Hold, men! We expected this, that’s why we’re here and not a squad less armored. We take the hits so that our friends won’t have to!” Three men died that day, and night, as the assault continued.

“Are they gone... Captain?” the final dying man asked as dawn sent streaks in the sky above.

“They ran away, yeah. Behind the hill. Didn’t even want to hold it near us.”

“We did it... didn’t let them through.”

“Hold on just a bit longer, soldier. You know what time it is.”

“You... you know I know what time it is... sir...”

“You were the one who named it, all those months ago,” the captain said. “When I was just a sergeant. And all we had were forks.

They know you protected them tonight. They know you gave your life for them.

“Look up son. Here it comes.”

With his final strength, his armor unbuckled so that he could breathe long enough to see this moment, the spearman lifted his arm as if to catch the tree-sized log streaking like the dawn, ripping the air above him.

“DEAAATTHHHHREEEEEED!” he cried, and sent his spirit to shatter among the looting murderers.

[Gamenote: I tried to get a good snap of that. It just didn’t happen. Sorry.]

The hyenas yipped and danced away, largely unhurt, but startled.

“That’s just the beginning, private.” The private was already gone.

Sciff’s Monsterhunters quarreled with the wounded hyenas, putting them out of everyone’s misery.

Pint rested his first ranger squad, but sent his third in where the Deathreed had struck to continue the job.


“Destroy them,” Torn commanded her eagle as the hyenas ran from righteous avengement. “Destroy them as they die.”


“Thanks to you,” said the Red Raven in the direction of the raider’s leader, “we have lost precious men and time.


“So it is only right that we destroy EVERY ONE OF YOU!”


“Squeeaal little gobbies! Squeaaaal and run away!” Braun advised as his cavalry topped the hill from which the raiders had rent Reed’s squad all night.


Wailing, the goblin leader fled into a small, nearby swamp.

“No,” Reed promised the three dead men, two of whom had died from poison daubed on the javs by the goblins. “They are not allowed to run away. Where is my crossbow squad? Here is hair I’ve cut from each of the men they slew last night. Tie them to your quarrels. Let the dead men join your deadly anger.”

“You wanted the scalps of our friends,” his crossbow sergeant called out to the few survivors trying to hide in the water at the edge of the fjord. “Here they are!!”


And that was the end of three of the ‘panzer’ goblins.

“A fine sweep,” the Inquisitor agreed. “Brim, you and I will have to do as well tomorrow, against the final foe, if we can!”

“Ohhhh, I think we can. Watchit--!”

The hyenas leapt forth from the village, seeing apparently an undefended human simply standing in the road.

The Red Raven, Alfred Brennock, folded his arms and DARED them to even try something.

They didn’t.

[Gamenote: not sure what the AI was thinking there. Sure, he had some crossbow support, but hyenas always have shooting protection at least, so that would only knock off 1 point of health, and Brennock couldn’t shoot back. More likely they had thought to go after Pfeil, whom they might have seriously wounded, and the AI just didn’t see Brennock there out of its visual range before moving -- he would have lent defensive shooting support, and their immunity probably doesn’t extend to his type of ‘missile’.]
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:05:40 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #38 on: January 17, 2015, 12:40:27 PM »
“Reform the line on Freiberg,” instructed Colonel Pfeil. “Those who are wounded, rest and then come up when you can. Oh, and anyone wanting target practice before you move, you know where to shoot. That is all.”

“You need rest yourself, Derrick,” said Father Dexter, as he passed by, shouting a little to be heard over the sound of hyenas and goblins trying to run away and failing. “You were hit by javelins, too, as much as anyone else yesterday.”

“I know, I know. And I will. I’m thinking... ooh, Sir William arc’d around to free Estzum and hit the hyenas from the rear. Brim will be mad that he missed the action again.”

“I expect he’ll be slaughtered as much as he wants when we storm the city, soon.”

“Yes, but we’ve lost a lot of time. This is the fifth day, one third of what I was wanting, to ensure the best results against the invaders. We probably won’t be ready to attack tomorrow, either; not at full strength. And we’ll need full strength.”

“Indeed. The ballista could use the eagle for spotting, and start hitting the trolls; make them burn up their regeneration powers perhaps.”

“A good idea to start the bombardment early, outside their detection range -- but just in case that aggravates them, I want you up front to help receive visitors. Most of our troops will be able to set up a good defensive line, but not all today.”

“I will be there if the trolls decide to come out. Or anything else. But, especially them. Monsters who kill children, do not get along well with me,” the Inquisitor reminded him.


Day six began.

“Master Brennock... um... Red Raven,” Torn shyly tried, blushing furiously and grinning.

“Yes, dear, I can hardly be annoyed by anyone calling me by that name. Unless you are an Inquisitor perhaps?”

“No no! Um... Ravenwing says a squad of goblins inside the castle are standing on a bridge, over a moat. They’ll be supporting any attacks we make, soon, but...”

“Yes, yes, most perceptive. They think they are safe, no doubt, despite being terribly exposed on the water.”



“Thank you for helping me teach to them the error of their ways. Let me know if anyone else tries camping there. I have one more fireball waiting. want me to sign something??”

“Fangirl,” Reed grinned when she returned. “Please tell me you didn’t ask him to sign on OW! That wasn’t a no!”

“He didn’t sign. He drew his mark,” she pertly corrected him.

“Don’t worry, captain,” the Inquisitor said. “He never goes farther than that. ...with women,” he muttered and rolled his eyes. “COUGH COUGH, sorry, bile in my throat, now,” he continued over Reed’s shocked stare and Torn’s amused smirk, “you, captain, have the only remaining squad that really still needs resting. Others behind us won’t be able to get into place today, but in the colonel’s absence I will start the assault. We will need your other, unwounded halberdiers, and your crossbow squad, and, hm, not necessarily the eagle, not yet, my apologies lady, hunting down loose ends is important but so is keeping your eagle alive... Razorwind you call him? A fine name. Very fitting. If he ever dies, may I have your permission to stitch his name in my cape along the edge? Elegant creatures,” he mused, studying the castle.

“You rather look like an eagle yourself,” Torn essayed. “White hair, black wings, gold trim, the beak...”

“Yes, yes, thank you, very kind,” he stroked his chin, still thinking. “Sciff likes to shoot monsters, yes? Do we have any other slayers near? Anyway, today I intend to end them; but once we do that I want those cretins in the castle to pay if they come out here to fight. Which is better than us going in there to fight, you understand. hmmm, how to constitute the front...”

“I don’t think we have any other dedicated slayers yet, other than you and Sciff I mean,” Reed seriously answered, stepping in front of Torn so that she might not be noticed while trying to hold back her grin. “But Brim wants some action, and he’s our designated city fighter right now.”

“And he can get to the front in time, yes, good. Very well. He will go there; I will go to his right; your second squad -- or is it your first? -- that one shall go to his left, in front of the war orcs. Do not attack unless it looks very favorable to you, of course, we aren’t that desperate for time yet. But still, this will get things moving along. Crossbows up for support along behind us. The Raven already eliminated one of their defensive archers; probably there are more, but they won’t be able to save the trolls in time, good, good.

“Oh, almost forgot, very important. Captain Pint!” he called.

“Major High Priest of the Inquisiting Sword, sir!”

“Droll. Go up, harass those trolls, and scout out the area, then clear the area and let us proceed.”


“Morning wakeup call delivered as ordered, sir!”

“Excellent, now fill out our map here... a ballista! Is that all the remaining long-distance they have? Maybe some off to the west, beyond the gate? We’ll watch for that. The ballista will be trouble today; too bad we have no way to hit twice with long-range magic, yet. I already told you, what some people do with magic is what bothers me, so stop making those faces, I know you heard me before. The Raven will snipe it tomorrow I expect. Good, now let’s go ruin their day. More trolls behind, in the central island keep? I hope they come up to replace the ones we’re going to send back into the dust!!

“Amazing. No other goblin archers over there either,” the Reverend Father reported after moving into position. “But I do see one of those bombers, and a passel of bull riders. Those will be a problem. Between them and the castle, we’ll have our hands full today... Still, I’m grateful for any small providence.”


“Braun, come up toward the bridge; keep us safe from surprises. Not too far! If we send him too far, he’ll ride into the city and be slaughtered like sheep,” the Inquisitor grumbled. “But this will keep him able to stop anything coming across the bridge to flank us. Speaking of flanks, I’m worried about our right. Those bulls could hit us hard, and all we have are crossbowmen over there right now. Master Brennock, up on that hill if you please! -- a three way mutual reinforcement, he ought to appreciate that... why are you smirking? Here, courier, send the signal: Ballistamen! -- PULL THE LEVER!!”


“Good, that told them their end has come nigh! Sciff, your turn!”


“Cowering in a ditch, you stony killers? GO FORTH RAZORWIND! -- BRING THEM THE FEAR OF JUDGMENT FOR THEIR CRIMES!”

[Gamenote: sadly, didn’t get a good snap of that.]


“Awww, did the poor little murdering monster run away again? Back to us?” Brim’s men mocked, as the simple creature gnawed its fingers in fear of where to go. [Gamenote: that’s part of the troll-broken animation, too, yep. It’s amazing, but I chose the shot of it trying to hide behind its hands.]

“Are you hiding from heaven’s judgment behind your hands? LET ME REMOVE THEM! -- ACKNOWLEDGE THE INESCAPABLE LIGHT!” The Inquistor ran into the gatehouse, sliced once, twice, again, and then ran out. There, he prayed in the name of the honorable Saint Marcus as his enemy staggered, fell to the ground, and stared high into the sun.

[Gamenote: Sadly, a gatetower obscured the troll’s final death, which was too bad as I had framed a great shot of Dexter praying in victory outside. Well, here it is anyway: just consider this one of the troll’s severed arms...]


But then Father Dexter Divine was bombed and swamped by bull riding orcs -- his mangled body left for dead on the field, after stone from far out of sight fell down from heaven and crushed him.

[Gamenote: that, unfortunately, was the best result I could get, under the circumstances. Father D just hasn’t leveled up enough yet to shrug off so many attacks. Not having my premier monster-slayer around for the second half of the campaign is going to hurt.]

“Dexter!” Alfred shouted from his hill not far away; he tried to send his helmet of the saint to help the priest in time, after the initial bombing, but the courier had only gotten into Fitch’s crossbows when the orcan riders came.

“Here,” said Fitch, “we’ll need that soon. We won’t have much protection until some of the fighters get here. Boys, that catapult wherever it is just became our primary target. Let’s get into those trees, and find an angle. If the bulls want to come in after us, well, I guess we let them.” Away they went, into the forest. “There it is, through the trees -- give them steely hell! FOR FATHER DIVINE!” Their bolts nearly tore the machine apart; panicking the goblins wheeled it farther away out of range. The crossbowmen cheered.

Derrick Pfeil and the knights of Quazir were riding hard to reach that wing of the fight, but wouldn’t get there in time.

“Torn? Torn listen,” Reed told her as she tried to signal the eagle while wiping away tears. “Don’t send Razorwind out to find the catapult yet; we may need him to finish the bomber. Fitch shot it defending the Reverend. I’m going to take the halberds, and march out there and recover his body. I can’t take his place, but we can make those bull-riders pay.”

“I don’t want them to run you over, too,” she whispered. “Look at them, Reed! They’re laughing!”

“They won’t be laughing much longer. Run over me? I’m not going over there to challenge them to a fight,” he snorted. “Just how much of a fool do you think I am?”

“Do I get a vote?” Pint called. “Because I’ll have to wait until I get back. I’m getting together some rangers to go get some steaks.”

“Exactly what I had in mind! Almost exactly; I’m sending someone else to the party, too,” Reed waved him absently along with pen and went back to scribbing courier messages for yeomen to carry and shoot to various squads. “Don’t let them escape, you hear? Send them this way!”

They did.

[Gamenote: not a good snapshot though.]

Right next to Brim.

“Ready to get in the war?” Reed asked as he went forward. “I’m going to move some halberds in here soon, and we have a few lumps over here in the way.”


“You mean those bloody lumps?”

“The very ones. Too much shadow over here though.” Reed snapped his fingers and pointed; his crossbowmen promptly blew the bomber out of the sky.

“Hey!” one of the men from the 3rd ranger squad shouted. “What’s the big idea?”

“My big idea is for you to come in here, find the Father... here is he, over here!” Reed waved. “Come get him, carry him out again, and, oh, jav some goblins inside while you’re at it, thanks.”

“I got a better big idea. You get his body back to headquarters, and we go into the gatehouse and start murdering everything that looks at us funny.”

“...that could work,” said Reed. “I’ll ask Master Brennock to come up and lend you some support. Deal?”


“All right, Brim you pass on over past me to the right, down the line, there you go...”

“What about the eye-bleeding catapult?!”

“Feh. One thing at a time. You have a completely unharmed and fully prepared ballista waiting to shoot you, too, you know.”


“But not anymore. I see the Deathreed is ready. The crew has pulled it up right behind Master Brannock, who is here to add a little more zest to those goblins inside. Sir, whenever you feel the mood.”


“Huh. In hindsight, I wish I had timed that a little differently; I’m sure you’d rather have marched inside to some cover in case those robbers inside want to fight.” A tree-sized pole shot tearing across the sky over the walls into the castle. “That should be the end of their ballista.

“Not entirely shabby a response to them trampling our preacher, hm?” Reed smiled at Torn as she watched nearby.

“I,” she said, arching an eyebrow, “think you’re showing off to someone.”

The infantry officer turned back around to check for Razorwind still on post. “Well, I suppose that might in fact be possible...” He picked at his beard a moment, with a smile, but then sighed. “I do want you to send your eagle over to kill the catapult, but...”

“But you don’t know how many archers might be near to shoot him. He’ll be fine, he’s learning to dodge and fly up high. They’ll just be little food-squigglies running around, if they’re fool enough to try.

“But if you want him to finish the goblins inside, where they went off toward the bridge...”

“No, that’s okay. The catapult will be a bigger threat if they repair it tonight, and Pint will keep the goblins hassleWHOA!” Reed stumbled as Torn shoved past and flagged the eagle.


“He says thanks for the meal, by the way,” Torn squinted into the distance with her tube. “And also... a pod of orc stabbas out near a small church. With... one goblin he doesn’t know how to describe. Weird. One goblin at church? Maybe you put the fear of God in him??”

“If only they’d get that and go home and do something useful there...” Reed sighed. “We’ll try to send a detachment up there to look around. The Reverend would want us to.”

“So do I,” said Master Brennock. “I think they’re trying to dig out one of the more hidden relics there. I can feel its power from here. That’s probably a goblin hexer. Send a courier back to Colonel Pfeil; he’ll be here tomorrow but I’m sure he’ll agree -- if we can spare the forces. And don’t be too concerned about Dexter. He’s a tough old bird, like me. You saw what he recovered from before, right? That took him months. This, a few weeks, tops. Of course he’s still alive, I saw him trying to codger the hospitaliers who were carrying him off, telling them how to do their job.

“Good vengeance run, however,” the wizard winked. “Very impressive."

That was about the time the shocked War Orcs recovered their wits enough to try fighting the third rangers.
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:07:08 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #39 on: January 17, 2015, 12:47:39 PM »

Neither side did a whole lot of damage to the other; but more importantly Pint’s squad only suffered wounds, while between him and Master Brennock’s fire support several orcs were killed outright and wouldn’t be coming back.

That night, Colonel Pfeil sent back word by courier: “Captain Reed is correct; I will take fast movers, go investigate a day or two. Major Reed continue good work. Prayers for Father Divine.”

“Works for me!” said Brim. “I know Braun would want to get in the game, but just hasn’t had a good chance yet; he couldn’t cycle over to our right and go help Derrick... could he?”

“Not sure,” Reed mused. “I think we’re all in his way. Still, I agree, we’ll look into it at the end of the day.”

[Gamenote: yeah, probably not. The green hexes show where he could travel, and there’s a free one to the right he could reach with plenty of road travel if he had enough clicks to get there.]

“Right. So, what miracle shall we wreck today? ...wrought? What’s the present tense of wrought?”

“Wreak? Anyway: there are some robbers in that far rightward gate,” Reed pointed, “who are going to keep anyone from passing through that area easily; and the colonel and cavalry can’t pass through trees very easily either. True, he probably means to take your 1st rangers, Pint, and Fitch’s crossbows; and they could go on without him. But why not go ahead and use them to smooth the way here, since that’s what they’d be doing there?

So they did that.


“Try not to get too close to the hexer,” Brennock said. “He can see a lot farther than those stabbas. Don’t give him a reason to run you down before you’re ready!”

“Oh, good thanks, didn’t know how far they could see,” Reed nodded.

“It isn’t seeing exactly; their eyesight is terrible except close-up,” the teacher started to lecture, but then stopped himself with a grin. “Sorry. I’ll just go back to preparing to shoot whatever you want.”

“You’re a major rank, too; and a whole lot longer than me,” Reed pointed out.

“Eh, I’ve been all kinds of ranks over the years. Including general. So has Dexter Divine. We’re whatever the situation requires. Colonel Pfeil put you in charge of the siege, so I’m ready to see what you manage today.”

“Put me in, coach, I’m ready to play!” said Captain Brim.

“Ah, actually, the most reasonable person to go in at the moment and finish off the goblins is the colonel. He’s got to go that way anyway; and I need you for the fight against the war orcs.”


Derrick immediately agreed, and charged in to take the second part of the castle, driving out the robbers onto the grass next to the lake.


Sir William, rounding the corner, gladly finished them off, as Pint’s first squad stood nervous watch on the road.

“Time to bring back Razorwind, warrant... you’re a warrant officer right?” Torn shrugged at Reed’s question. “Seriously, how have we gotten so far without that being clarified yet?! Those goblins on the bridge have got to go.”

They went, but they went farther down the moat.

“Sorry, Reed... I mean Major,” she said. “I thought he could kill them all, but...”

Reed sighed. “Fine, they’re out of the way for now, we’ll just have to get them later today if we can. Third rangers are up next, harass the orcs and then take the gatehouse freed by Colonel Pfeil.

“Now, crossbow squads, mine and Sciff, move around and drop some steel... okay, that... worked a little better than I was expecting.” The orcs, fleeing the bolts, ran up to the main gatehouse. “Crap, I’m sorry, Brim, I should have put you in there first so they’d have nowhere to run but the river!”

“Argh. Fine, get out of the way, and let us finish this.”

“uh... okay, moving my second halberds out... there, you can get in now... are you sure, Brim, they still look ready to go; Master Brannock could -- “



“Oh, greaaaat, they ran outside.”

“...ahem, in my defense,” Brim started, but, “Don’t start, I know,” Reed said, “I should have sent you into the gatehouse first, I know!

“THIS IS CLEARLY A JOB FOR SOMEONE WITH BRAWN!!” rang a loud voice amid a thunderous charge.

[Gamenote: yeah, that shot didn’t work so good, sorry.]

“Oh! -- uh, yeah, that works,” Reed hastily tore up a courier shaftnote and sent another one to shoot toward his underofficer already in the castle. “That way my halberds in there can finish out the goblins in the moat... and that leaves Master Brannock ready to fire up the trolls in the island keep!

“Then the Deathreed comes up, adds some more prep, and tomorrow...”

“Wait, Razorwing says a bunch of orc reinforcements are coming up from the east!” Torn alerted them.

“Wait, I just realized: what if the trolls attack me here in the castle!?” said Master Brennock. “I have no support!”

“That’s... crap, sorry, yeah, that could be a problem.”

“Worse, not that I mind frying trolls, obviously I’m a little too eager,” recriminated the wizard, “but so what? They’ll just rest tonight and recover. They won’t even need to regenerate!”

“Okay!” Reed snapped. “I’m sorry, I know you’re in serious danger, but it’s too late to move you out! Deathreed, smite whatever orcs over there you can reach,” he sent Torn with the order and also to help coordinate the shot. According to Razorwind, several orcs fell.

“Master Brennock!” Reed shouted as loudly as he could, running into the main gatehouse of the castle. “It turns out my highly trained crossbowmen who love to kill monsters for fun can come up behind you in support after all, see? And also take a look at this helmet of the saint which will grant you extra protection from God which Father Divine insisted you get when you heard you might have to repel war trolls now if they try we will surely slaughter them, catching them on the bridge tomorrow, too!”

“ this really a saint’s helmet?”

“You ought to know, you’ve been wearing it for months until you tried to send it to Father Divine a few days ago.”

“Well, it’s magical, sure, but... I guess it’s beat up enough to be a saint’s helmet. No self-respecting magus would let an artifact of his go out looking this terrible. I thought Sciff had already marched today?”

“He did, but my own crossbows hadn’t. They aren’t slayers, but the trolls don’t know that.”

Perhaps Reed’s ploy worked; the trolls simply rested and were ready to go the next morning; as were the mads knocked down by the ballista.

“Fine,” Reed said determinedly. “I’m ready, too. Readier.”

“If it helps any,” Colonel Pfeil smiled, “I sent out couriers last night to call in the second ranger squad. They’re assembling outside.”

“...uh, great, I mean I’m glad to be able to hit the trolls three times and run away to soften them up; but in order to help hold the castle while we’re off on the final leg this week, I might have preferred some peasants upgraded to crossbows.”

“Oh. Sorry. I don’t think I was clear. I didn’t bring them up for you, Major,” the Colonel said. “Well, in a roundabout way I guess. You’ll have two to salt the trolls instead of one now. Happy? Major?”

“...yes, yes, sir, sorry, sir, Colonel!” rambled Reed. Had he seriously been grumbling to Colonel Pfeil!?

Pfeil chuckled. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think I’d make it there in time to do any good anyway; so I’ll stick around here and see if I can lend a hand. You’ve got quite a little army building up over on the other side of the lake.”

“And no doubt quite a large army still over there near Seeberg,” Reed sighed, disconsolately.

“The living challenge of command!” Derrick clapped him on the shoulder. “I may have some advice when we get that far, but let’s finish here first. For that, my first advice is to notice that none of your rangers are going to be close enough to get to the jav point and back out again. I know you thought they would, but they won’t. You should still send one, to put the trolls in harassment if nothing else, but keep in mind they’ll be vulnerable on the bridge. That being the case, since Pint’s first squad can reach the old church today, I’ll send that one along after Fitch, Sir William, and the second Rangers. They’ll be done and on the way back tomorrow.”


“Second, as you shuffle your troops around, please keep in mind it’s time to get them across the riverfjord bridge and on the way to Seeberg -- but not too far across the bridge! You can’t get a lot of troops over yet, and you don’t want to aggravate anyone over there into attacking you. Braun is the obvious choice, since he’s more useful in the field than in trying to take and hold the city; and he’s closest to the bridge.”


“I can send my first halberd squad across, too,” Reed suggested, “and... Master Brennock on the bridge? Vulnerable, but the only way to give the halbs support; and then Sciff’s monsterslayers and my third crossbows can come into the city to help if they need to.”

With this plan, followed by a shot from the Deathreed, the armored trolls fled the island keep.

“Brim! -- this is the day for your swordsmen! Get ready to hold that keep,” said Reed, “because a ton of berserks and bull riding orcs are on the other side trying to overrun the city again!”

“You heard ‘im, boys! LET’S FREE THE ROCK OF FREEDOM!”


Taking the evacuated keep, Brim led his men down into the moat where the trolls had tried to flee, and managed to slay another one before the third one ran away again.

“We can’t let that thing regenerate, or we’ll be up to our eyes in war trolls again. Torn!” called Reed. “Send Razorwing to end it!” Which he did.

“Bad news, Major,” she reported. “Behind that small army of orcs, is a whole other much larger army of goblin spears and more orcs! They must,” she checked a map, “be clustered around a farming village called Wenland...?”

“Great Saint Marcus,” the colonel sighed when he saw that. “Brim will never be able to hold the keep by himself. Put out couriers around the city, immediately; we’ll have to leave some people here to help, but any squad we can form may make the difference, too!”

“Looks like I can shuffle the rangers back after all,” Reed said. “If that’s true, I can bring in my third crossbows to lend them some support.”

Very quickly, men who had managed to hide themselves and their families came out; armoring them wasn’t a problem, there was plenty to go around. They said King Victor had planned to use himself as bait up near Seeberg, to draw in a large portion of the advancing horde and trap them in a massacre.

Pfeil and his officers nodded at this bold plan, but everyone could see the smoke plumes rising in that direction. “I... don’t know that he made it,” said the Colonel. “Reed, you’ve got to hold this position with your halberds and Brim and... Lord above, I don’t know what else I can spare. I’ve got to press on to Seeberg Fort!”
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:08:15 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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    • The Evangelical Universalist
Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #40 on: January 17, 2015, 12:51:55 PM »

“We’ll just have to make do, sir YOU MORONS WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Reed shouted.

The new swordsmen had gathered down in the moat. The berserker orcs were moving around to try to flank the island, and apparently the swordsmen thought they ought to meet the invaders before the orcs could get too far.


It could have been much worse. The third crossbows lent support, and helped keep the swordsmen from being completely chopped to pieces. Broken, they yet stood, having nowhere immediately clear to retreat to.

“I hate to say it,” said Reed, “but I guess I’m going to say it: you’re going to need room to muster a concentrated push toward Seeberg, sir, and as long as those orcs are in the way they’ll be threatening your rear and flanks, even if you could put enough troops across the closer bridge to protect yourself against any army between you and Seeberg. I know you only have 6 more days on your schedule, but sir, these orcs should be disposed of first.”


“I can’t say I can disagree with your logic, son,” the commander sighed. “But neither can we put enough troops across the lake right now to deal with the orcs we can already see! We know a whole other army is waiting at Wenland, ready to come down and provide more reinforcements.

“Our best bet for now, is to do what we can to get ready to push troops across the river in force; and otherwise kill those mads and bull riders when they try to attack. Shoot the mads around the island now; that’ll give Brim and the new swordsmen time to rest up -- the new men should probably stay there as bait. We’ll park Razorwing over them, maybe that’ll help. But your halberds may have to go down there and wait for the enemy, instead, after tomorrow.”

So not much was accomplished that day other than organization, and preparing to meet the next orc attack on the island citadel. Pint and the detachment returned from the old church, bearing tales of a goblin hexer in black robes trimmed with red -- and also bearing a sword of wrath, which would allow anyone to throw a long-distance magical attack of considerable power that would also physically weaken the target for a few days. “The goblin was trying to figure out how to even retrieve the thing much less use it: he was afraid to touch it!” Pint laughed. “Well, we’ve got it now, and Father Divine will teach us how to use it.”

Indeed, the convalescing priest was eager for Pfeil to check another church on the other side of the river as soon as possible: “I fear for the Church of Marcus’ Blood!” he wrote from the safety of the regimental rear as he recovered from his near-death trampling. “Please see that no orcs have gone into it!”

Derrick snorted when he read that. “Based on the smoke, I’d say they’ve done more than gone into it! But we’ll try to look into it if we can, as we go. Not anytime soon, I’d wager...”

“Here come the goblins!” Brim reported, from his lookouts; bull riders mauled the swordsmen in the moat, but they held relatively firm with the help of some crossbows. Mads, hammered by the Deathreed earlier that day, left their hill and tried to take the citadel directly by storm -- but Razorwing and a crossbow hail laid them down into death before Brim could hardly get his swords in!

“You know the drill,” said Reed. “Scour out the trash with crossbolts, rest up, get ready again. I think you guys can last one more day against some goblins,” he assured the new swordsmen as they bound up their wounds. “You’re only five men down out of fifteen. Tomorrow I’ll have some halberds here to relieve you.”

Only one attack came that day, from goblin robbers not the tougher killers. Brim repulsed it easily enough, and the ranged crew got to work on them the next day. But...

“Marcus and the Three!” Reed swore. “Just how many elite goblin spearmen are going to come down here from Wenlend??”


“Tentatively, I’m going to guess all of them, Major,” Brim replied.

“Well, they’re like little devils, hard to shoot, sir,” said Reed’s personal crossbow squad. “You should probably give the swordsmen down in the much a break today, if you can.”

“Right, right; I hate to get rid of some extra defense, but Torn, you had better send Razorwing out to finish off those robbers. We don’t want them coming back.”

That wasn’t hard at all, but Razorwing had worse news to report.


HOW many more squads are out there!?”

“Nine and a goblin bomber. Could be more behind them,” she answered the colonel. “At least they’re all fighters, no archers or slingers. Those could be even more of a problem.”

“With those numbers,” Derrick said, “they ought to cross upriver where we can’t stop them, and attack our flanks. That could be brutal. According to survivors, the Red Stonesword did just that with hyena goblins and bull riders.” He sighed. “I hope King Victor is holding out okay, because there’s no way I dare try to cross the river with those goblins ready to pounce on me from the side. I think.”

“Sir,” said Reed, “if I shuffle my troops a little more today, I may be able to give you a protected front across the riverfjord tomorrow, in the direction of Seeberg. It probably won’t be in time to meet your schedule, but...”

“But they’re just slowing us down too much. Sometimes the enemy doesn’t let you do what you want. I understand,” the colonel said. “Someone is using Freiberg as a delaying action. That means this ‘someone’ must be either retreating back into the Waste, while the getting is good, or... he’s advancing on into Leranse.”

“...that’s insane!” blurted Sir William. “An orc horde invading the old Imperial lands? They’d be chopped into mulch! -- the orcs I mean!”

“Maybe their leader doesn’t know when to fold his hand and go home with his winnings. I don’t know; but I do know King Victor must still need help. Or he’d be coming back to give us help!” Pfeil inferred. “Anyway, our timetable is pretty much busted. Now, we should concentrate on removing the orcan threat so we can give ourselves room to chase that red clown.”

[Gamenote: I just don’t see any way to get the gold victory here. So, no Elixer of Life reward for me, though that would be helpful. And I don’t give a poot about another yeoman archer unit, so never mind about a silver victory either, I’m not going to rush on it. The gold I win for winning at all is the same either way; but if I take my time I can pick up more gold for a bronze win than on silver or gold medal wins, by liberating towns.]

The next day the new swordsmen were nearly destroyed by goblin killers, and the bomber attacked Brim; but between one thing and another the bomber was shot down and the killers eliminated. The Freedom Rocks, as they were now being called for their repeated heroic duty in the shoals of the moat around the island, retreated at last into the castle, as Reed finally found a squad that could get down into the rocks as reinforcements in time.

The rangers across the eastern bridge with the first halberds, though, had to reveal themselves to finish yesterday’s killers. What would that mean for today? Would the small bridgehead be swarmed over?


None of the enemy must have noticed; the goblin killers still concentrated on testing the castle defenses -- and this time, they didn’t meet newly minted swordsmen in the water.

They found Pint and his stone cold rangers, hiding in the shadows of the shallows, ready to teach the ‘killers’ what it means to kill.

“Target rich environment!” Reed called. “Let’s finish them off again, and let the next two crews come down!”


“Another couple of days of this, and we’ll be ready to push on out toward Seeberg Fort,” Reed estimated.

That day, Brim and his men took both the attacks, no one wanting to come back down to hit at Pint’s rangers again! In one way this was a good idea, since Brim could only have one crossbow supporter in range to help. But Brim had been trained in city-fighting, and was defending the staunchest part of the city not only with help from the archers but also from Razorwing!

Not only that, but Brim was getting better at using the details of castles and cities to help his own defense!

“No more being left behind!” he shouted encouragement to his men. “We’re on the front line now, and it’s all up to us!”

The other protectors supporting him, and cleaning out the surviving orcs or goblins in the morning, didn’t entirely agree with that, but didn’t sell short the doughty defenders either.

“That’s it for the goblin attackers!” Torn reported. “Only things left out there are bull riders and some mads.”

And after a few more days, those had also died.

“That’s it; I think we’re done here!” Colonel Pfeil announced. “Start moving up over the citadel bridge and across the river. One bull-rider group ran away, possibly to get a few more reinforcements, so be cautious. Torn, we’ll need to see soon if they emptied out that area; if so, the Freedom Rocks can go secure it, and finish off those bulls with one of Reed’s halberd squads. The rest of us, get ready to cross the river and attack the squad we can see; we know from Captain Pint’s scouts that they have some archer support, so if possible we’ll need to get around behind them or maybe Deathreed them. The moment we cross the river toward Seeberg, the enemy will know we’re coming and throw everything at us! -- so it’s important we hit first and get rid of as many enemies as we can before they do to us what we want to do to them!”
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:09:42 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #41 on: January 17, 2015, 12:52:30 PM »
The bull riders did come back on the 17th afternoon, a little reinforced, but it didn’t make any difference: one crossbow volley later, and they had run into the woods to hide -- not a great place for cavalry to defend themselves from halberds.


Reed’s second halberd squad, who with the FreeRocks had been quietly crossing the river to the west for just this moment, confirmed that Wenlen still had a simple orc mob holding it. Possibly much the same could be expected at the goblin village farther down the road. For now at least the rear was secure, and Derrick could initiate the push to Seeberg.

First, Razorwing and the Deathreed drove off the archers behind the bulls that rangers had been watching for weeks; verifying the area around the church looked eerily clear.


Then rangers went forward to harass the orcs, kill the final archers, and secure the burned temple. Some kind of catastrophe had kept the orcs from looting it; they had burned it to the ground but had not otherwise gone near. Inside, the rangers recovered some of the remains of Saint Marcus himself! -- largely ruined now, true, but still potent enough to deter sinners from attacking whoever held them. The ranger sergeant promptly distributed the pieces among his men.


Impatient after waiting so many weeks for action, the knights of Braun and Sir William wanted to ride out and finish the cavalry. However, Reed insisted they wait and form up at least a partial defensive wall in front of shooters. “Those few little bulls didn’t do all this damage! Whatever is coming is going to hit us hard, and we aren’t really in a good defensive line yet!”

Derrick agreed, so the knights ground their teeth and let Reed’s first halberds go find the bulls in the small copse of trees they had run away to hide in. Much as across the mountains with the other squad of halberds, Reed didn’t have to work hard.


The knights and Colonel Pfeil finished building the defensive line in front of one squad of crossbows and Master Brennock. It wasn’t ideal, but they couldn’t do any better until the rest of the crossbows arrived from the fort.


“I’m the leader, and I’m near the river with the least amount of support. They’ll probably hit me the hardest,” Derrick said. “Grit your teeth and hold on, men!”

But much to everyone’s relief, the orcs thought better about trying to mess with that defensive line.


They simply presented themselves on hills and waited.

“They’ve taken the hills; that’s going to make things harder. But still, we get to hit them first again, and that’s to our advantage!” Pfeil reminded them.

“The obvious targets are the berserker orcs,” said Reed. “If we let them have their way, they’ll demoralize a squad and then anything else nearby will rip it apart -- after they do! And they’re closest.”

“So, we need to carefully push up a strong defensive line, so our shooters can get rid of those orcs at least, and be ready to repel a strong assault,” Pfeil agreed. “The toughest defenders will have to go on the line -- “

“But not you,” interrupted a croaking voice. The officers turned to see Father Divine being carted forward by couriers. “No, obviously, not me either... I just wanted to see the ruins of that church for myself... the oldest one in this kingdom...” he sighed with tears in his eyes. “Sorry, I got sentimental for a moment,” he started again as Colonel Pfeil stuttered with a retort along the lines of ‘Of course me!’ “Shut it, Colonel. Technically you may outrank me in this regiment or whatever it is, but I’m the leader of a whole army of elite monster slayers. And we have learned from centuries of experience, much to our repeated sorrow, that when berserkers start wearing those skulls and extra things, they have one idea in mind: finding and killing enemy leaders. You’re too valuable to waste on the front line, and from what I’ve heard there are at least two such squads ahead plus other orcs including a war chief.

“Go scout our rear and secure it,” waved the Inquisitor. “That has to be done, too. I’d send you after the ballista in those poor villages yonder, which your scouts have reported, but you’d still be exposing yourself to an undue amount of threat -- and you can’t reach it today anyway. Warrant Torn: I don’t know if your eagle can kill it, but you must try. A little later today; yes, good, good, Major, I agree: your rangers will get two free missile attacks against anything trying to run them down later -- javelin plus crossbow or maybe the Raven will poop on the foe! -- and one of them should lead by harassing the mads on the hill. If they run, and they’ll run eventually, they won’t stay for the full rain of justice on the way, your, um, Deathreed can try finishing them off. Yes, put a ranger squad in front of it; he’ll be invisible perhaps to the enemy, who will only see an apparently open target of great value, and waste time trying to get to it.

“Alfred, do hold back as long as you can; and maybe also whoever has the Sword of Fury? Ah Pint, yes, one of your ranger squads has it. You two have the longest range attacks, and quite strong ones, so you may well be who finishes off the ballista or the mads or both.”


“A difficult time ahead,” the silver-haired priest sighed. “Let us pray for our lives -- and pray for the dead!”


The rangers with the relics of Marcus started the assault, harassing the “bad mads” as Father Divine called them, and putting down a few.

“They haven’t run yet,” said Major Reed, “but they might on the next attack. My crossbow squad will go next: if the bads run, maybe they’ll run somewhere the other rangers or crossbows can reach.”

The bads did run, but farther away from where the rangers or crossbows could reach.

They couldn’t outrun the Deathreed, though!

“One squad of bads down. Too bad we can’t do more today to prepare for the odds, but that’s something,” Reed told the men. “Now let’s try to get rid of the enemy ballista. Torn?”

Razorwind, as expected, couldn’t do more than initial damage to the machine and its crew; although he did reveal that Seelberg Fort had fallen: a squad of trolls held it, backed by at least one squad of goblin archers.

“Now,” said the Inquisitor, “for the Sword...”

“Uh, Father, look... I’m not the most, um, religious guy in the Rangers,” Pint said. “Maybe someone else should do this.”

“Perhaps. But not me, I’m still too weak,” grimaced the priest. “Try it anyway, as I show you. If it doesn’t work, we can always give it to someone else, like Reed perhaps -- “


“GAH!” Pint exclaimed.

“Yes, that worked very well, didn’t it?” the Inquisitor thinly smiled. “I have heard that God has special fondness for the irreligious, sometimes. The experiment was worth the result, I’d say.”

“The ballista has cracked!” Torn reported, after signaling Razorwind for an update.

“They’re mustering, Major,” the Red Raven said, putting up his hands and preparing to help defend the line.

But they didn’t attack after all.

The Reverend Father clapped his hands and almost laughed! “Ah, I do so love skirmishers! Their dark cowls prefigure the death coming to the impenitent! Even the worst orc berserkers think twice! -- at least when backed by a rain of hard-forged steel. Yes, yes, and a Red Raven, Alfred.”

So, they ran it again the following day.

That day it worked even better, because the final crossbowmen had fully caught up, and so all four shooters and all three rangers could concentrate on the line! Reed made sure Razorwing ended the mads, however, instead of the bull riders, since the mads could be more dangerous. Besides which, this way the eagle could scout the final fortress areas fully.


One of the ranger squads hadn’t even attacked before it was all over -- so just to be ballsy, they went into the hills, javelined the war chief on his bull, and returned to the line! “Just wanted him to know what’s coming tomorrow,” their sergeant said. “And waiting for him today, if he wants it.”

He didn’t. He did very foolishly advance into the hills, however; perhaps to spot for the goblin archers he brought up from behind the trolls in Seelberg, who peppered Reed’s front line but couldn’t do much damage.

“Well, that made things a lot easier!” Reed and the other officers agreed that night over dinner. “Like they’re tired of fighting and just want to end it quickly!” “Well, let’s help them with that!” And the officers laughed.

The campaign didn’t last many more days; one highlight being William D’Quazir and his squad of knights careening through the hills chasing the panicked war chief and his bull until at last the orc was laid low. That didn’t end the fighting, but it did end the effective resistance of the remaining orcan squads.

Once the last surviving troll was driven out of Seelberg to be executed by Sciff’s Monsterslayer crossbow squad, Reed thought the party could officially start. They had liberated the heart of Derenhalle from a dreadful, literally unimaginable fate, crushed the most competent core of the horde, and...

...and Colonel Derrick Pfeil had other opinions.
« Last Edit: December 24, 2018, 10:10:50 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline JasonPratt

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (a Fantasy Wars narrative AAR, lots of screenshots)
« Reply #42 on: January 17, 2015, 12:53:40 PM »
INTERLUDE -- Assuming the Heart of the Worst

“King Victor? DEAD! Derenhalle? DEAD! The Rock of Freedom? BURNED TO THE GROUND!” Pfeil smashed his fist on the table with every emphasis, making the officers jump. “I’m not blaming any of you, we all fought as hard as we could against overwhelming odds. But we were delayed here a month, a MONTH, while the architect of this ruin traipsed on north of here, because by all accounts from the few survivors in hiding he didn’t go home south.”

“Then he’s as good as dead,” Brim began, “cut off from support -- ”

“He’s looting and burning for his support, and he’s training and promoting fresh troops from the massive mob of orcs and goblins following in his wake. How far will he get before Leranse stops him? Or Sylent? Or anyone? Or before he does whatever he thinks he’s here to do? And we still can’t chase him yet, we need to recover, rest, and regroup! And when we do, he’ll no doubt be putting roadblocks in our path the whole way after, wearing us down!”

Reed tentatively raised his hand, and ventured, “King Victor might not be dead...”

“Yes, I know some tales talk about an eagle snatching him off the road after some goblin devil left him there to die; but all the tales talk about this Axenose creature torturing him to death first. That sounds like wishful thinking or his body being carried into heaven to me,” Derrick snorted. “Any opinions on that, Father?”

“From a folklore perspective the evidence is intriguing,” the Inquisitor began. “The fate of the body is totally unaccounted for regardless of the versions, and -- “

“ -- and most likely he was thrown in a ditch to be eaten by vultures and hyenas. Sorry, Dexter, it happens,” Master Brennock brusquely declared.

“Either way, unless the eagle was Razorwind and someone is just hiding him here in our regiment to recuperate as a surprise,” said Pfeil, “I have to assume the worst.”

“Then let us assume the worst,” the Inquisitor agreed, with a steely glance at Master Brennock. “Stop smirking, Alfred. You know what’s north of here.”

The Red Raven blinked a moment. And stopped smirking. “Marcus wept,” he rasped.

“He very well might,” the Inquisitor dryly continued, “considering his body was desecrated already. But he will weep tears of blood if the orcs... know what they’re doing.”

“ahem...” Pint raised a hand. “Not that I want to get my head bit off for asking, but do we know what the orcs may or may not know the orcs are doing?”

“It’s a secret,” the wizard and the priest said together. “Also,” Brennok added, “whether the orcs go to Leranse, or to Sylent... or to both, somewhere on the border,” he coughed, “I have a death penalty on my head for daring to defend my city with my magic. And Stefan of Leranse won’t have forgotten who handed him his most recent defeat, Derrick.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Dexter sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why do you have to be such a drama queen, Alfred? You know perfectly well I will find a way to get you not-executed. But you also know perfectly well why the laws are so strict as to legally require it.”

The Raven sighed and rolled his eyes in turn. “Yes, wizards summoned the demon and allied with it. Wizards also fought and helped conquer the demon and his forces, yes before you say it including his dark wizard allies. Not only that, we helped seal his essence away and agreed to help guard it forever.”

“I don’t recall, hm, how many holy priests defected to the demon while remaining holy priests? The answer,” Father Divine tapped his chin thoughtfully, “it seems so small the actual number is escaping me at the moment...”

“How many priests defected to the side of the demon because THAT was a god they could see who was actually doing things?” the wizard retorted. “I recall that number being somewhat less than zero.”


Both men jumped when Colonel Pfeil slammed his hands on the table between them.

“Gentlemen. Focus please. I think you may have let a part of your secret slip,” he said. “An essence of Farrohk survives, does it?”

“...maybe,” the wizard muttered, eyeing him sideways.

“...he means perhaps in a metaphorical sense, representative of, um, evil in our hearts,” the priest suggested, and seemed prepared to go on.

“If you tell me that the essence of the demon is in our hearts, and this is what the orcs are marching after and why we ought to be extra concerned about catching the Grim Uru, I’m going to punch you, Inquisitor. Maybe several times,” said Pfeil. “You’ll never leave a sickbed again if I have anything to say about it.”

“’s in Verson,” Dexter said after a moment’s consideration. “And also in our hearts,” he muttered.

“All right. I accept that up until today there was no reason to tell me you KEPT A HEART OF THE DEMON THAT NEARLY RUINED THE WORLD hidden off and protected somewhere,” sighed Colonel Pfeil. The other officers looked more horrified than weary at this news. “That would explain the orc invasion nicely.”

“It isn’t a heart, exactly, it’s more like... right, yes, that’s as good description as any, a heart,” Brennock wilted a bit under Colonel Pfeil’s glare. “Demon’s heart, we couldn’t destroy it so we hid it in a fort to... um, keep it safe.”

“And study it, you might as well be fully honest, Alfred. God above, you’re a terrible liar,” the Inquisitor growled. “At least I have an excuse, I’m a priest, I take vows about that seriously. How did someone in your profession get to be so honest?!”

“We deal in FACTS as well as TRUTH!” the Red Raven stated. “And by the way in FACT we don’t know if it’s TRUE the orcs are, in FACT, trying to raid the Essence!”

“You two, argue theology and philosophy later on the road; the rest of you, get our corps together as quickly as possible,” the colonel ordered.

“We might have to save the world this year.”


« Last Edit: September 16, 2015, 01:47:52 PM by JasonPratt »
ICEBREAKER THESIS CHRONOLOGY! -- Victor Suvorov's Stalin Grand Strategy theory, in chronological order. Lots and lots of order...

Dawn of Armageddon -- a narrative AAR for Dawn of War: Soulstorm: Ultimate Apocalypse: The Hunt Begins: Insert Joke Here!

Survive Harder! In the grim darkness of the bowl there is only, um, Amazons. And tentacles and midgets. Not remotely what you're thinking! ...okay, maybe a little remotely.

PanzOrc Corpz Generals -- Season One complete; Fantasy Wars AAR, lots of screenies.

Offline Martok

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (Season One complete, lots of screenies)
« Reply #43 on: January 20, 2015, 08:09:41 AM »
Damn, Jason.  That was pretty epic.  Nicely done! 
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Offline Anguille

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Re: PanzOrc Corpz Generals (Season One complete, lots of screenies)
« Reply #44 on: January 20, 2015, 08:40:00 AM »
That's an impressive AAR!  O0