HISTORY - THE IDOL OF GORK
Imperial Year 2390

This account comes from two sources, the first is a brief description of the events to be found in the histories of Albrecht the Unreliable, a sage whose primary intrest was the history of the Bright College of Magic, and whose works were written with the sole intent of ingratiating himself with his patron Radabald Redbrow the master opf the College at the time. The second source is the much longer 28 volume 'A Historie of Ye Empire' by the Vunerable Ludwig, from which many details are drawn. Ludwig wrote the book some hundred years after the events but painstakingly assembled the earlier accounts of travellers and it is probable he had access to Rutgar's own personal diaries and journals.

War Over the Mountains
During one of those rare periods when the Counts of the Empire were not busy fighting each other for their lives and lands, the lords of the Empire cast envious eyes upon the green and fertile valleys that laid to the south beyond the Black Mountains between Black Fire Pass and Blood River.

Over the years that followed many attempts were made to colonise this region and claim it for the glory and people if the Empire. The discovery of rich veins of gold in Blind River and the abundance of preious gems in the foothills of the World Edge Mountains led many people to brave the dangerous journey southwards in search of fame, fortune and prosperity.

Others, those who lived a more simple and humble life, were tempted to leave the Empire with the dream of a new life tilling the fertile valleys in the lee of the Black Mountains. The leaders of these would-be colonisers honoured themselves with the title of the Border Princes. And as time went on they styled themselves as the lords of the realm that laid beyond the borders of the Empire and the domain of the Emperor.

Margraf Frederik
Margraf Frederik led a force into the Border Princes and waged a war against the Orcs of the Iron Claw tribe. He drove the tribe from their stronghold around the Idols of Gork and Mork and burned the stronghold to the ground. He proved victorious and conquered a vast tract of land in the Border Region and seeked mighty warriors to help him secure it.

Rutgar of Wissenland
One such adventurer was Rutgar younger son of Count Wilhelm of Wissenland. Rutgar saw his chance to carve out a realm of his own in a land swarming with Orcs.

As to Rutgar's great foe, Grotfang Warboss of the Iron Claw tribe of Orcs, we not only have Imperial material about him but also a mighty Orc war-chant to help us understand his deeds and motives.

Rutgar and his retiner marched for many days across the barren wastelands. His task was to set his followers to work building a castle. Eventually, Rutgar came to a haut on the spur of low hills. Here he discovered the Orc stronghold that Margraf had burned and recognising it as an ideal defensive position in an otherwise open and vulnerable plain.

In the weeks that followed he set about re-fortifying the ruins for his own use. He was observed by the Orcs, who maintained a close watch over the site of their former capital since their defeat. In fact, little known the the humans who laboured to build their new settlement amongst the ruins of the Idol of Gork, their presence was detined to bring the wrath of the Ironclaws down upon them.

Rutgar ordered the Orc keep to be restyored to form the center of the castle. At the base of the fort Rutgars civilan followers began to build their hovels and started to till new fields.

Da Snatch
One afternoon, as the work continued, Rutgar rode out to an isolated hill where some workmen were trying to uproot a grotesque Orc monolith using ropes and a team of oxen. "It will make good stone for the castle," shouted down the foreman.

Suddenly there was a terrible, blood-curdling yell. The ropes snapped and with a groaning crash, the idol toppled over. It fell on top of the workmen who vanished from sight as the colossal image of Gork embedded itself into the ground. Everyone nearby had a look of terror on their faces and men began making the sign of holy Sigmar. Had they just been witness to an evil portent sent by the twisted Orc deity?

Rutgar took control of the scene and ordered the idols to be left alone for the time being. He set Manfred von Bock, a relibale captain, and a picked band of troops to gaurd the idols and keep watch for anything strange or suspicious. It rankled with Rutgar's profound faith in Sigmar that these vile Orc idols sould remain there to taunt him and his people. When he returned to the camp, he despatched a messenger to Altdorf to consult with the colleges of magic and the arch-prtiests of the temples of Sigmar and Ulric. He would not disturb the idols until he knew it was safe to do so, but he was determined that this land would be made pure.

* * * *

Skulking unseen among the gnarled and stunted trees of a nearby wood, Goblin wolf riders spied on the vain attempts of Rutgar's men to shift the idols. Staying only long enough to assess the situation, they hurried back to Grotfang's camp with their report. Grotfang and Oddgit were hooror-stricken that the Crown of Gork would be found before they could get to it.

Grotfang consulted with his trusty shaman. "Round up da Gobbo's fer a raid, Oddgit. I wants ya ter snatch da Crown of Gork from under da noses of dem stinkin 'uman gitz."

Oddgit felt a sudden sick feeling down where his food usually wnet. "Why me, er, I meenz, okay boss!"

Oddgit scurried off to round up as many of his fellow Gobbos as he could find. Trust the Warboss to send them on the immpossible missions. On the other hand, maybe the Warbossknew the Gobbos had a much better chancethan orcs of sneaking right up to the enemy's camp and snatching the Crown of Gork from under the sacred idols. Oddgit's feverish shaman brain began to form a cunning plan. What could be better than a night attack using the Night Goblins! They could see in the dark much better than men. Oddgit began to believe that the Warboss was indeed being inspired by Mork and Gork.

* * * *

Dieter licked his lips nervously and leaned closer to the campfire for comfort. A few feet away, Manfred von bock sat calm and composed, seemingly oblivious to the massive stone idols which cast stark shadows across the pair of them. Storm clouds had been gathering for the past few hours, and although no rain had fallen, the clouds obscured the light of the moon, leavin only the guttering camp fire to illuminate the dark.

Edgy, Dieter decided to stretch his legs, if only for something to do. Just sitting staring at the idols was beginning to grate in the soldier's nerves. Despite himself, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, and when distant forks of lightning briefly pierced the darkness, he could almost swear the grotesque carved faces of the idols were leering at him, their eyes alight with malice. Mentally cursing his superstition, Dieter tried to take his mind off the idols.

"Do you think this area will make good farmland, Sir?"

Manfred tilted his haed slightly to acknowledge his subordinate, the firelight illuminating the slight smile that played across his face.

"They bother you, don't they?"

"Well, er... I suppose it's just that I can't seem to get the picture of those dead workmen out of my mind, Sir. Youn don't suppose, I mean - you don't think those things did it on purpose do you?"

Manfred seemed to contemplate this last thought very seriously before finally coming to a decision. Rasing himself from the hard packed earth, he wandered over to the nearer of the two idols, the one that had fallen that morning, and gently laid his hand against its rough, weather-beatensurface. It was cool to touch and strangely moist, despite the fact that no rain had fallen in nearly a week. Numerous insects and spiders crawled across the face of the idol, losing themselves in the cracks in the stone, heedless of any malevolent force the idol might contain.

"They seem harmless enough to me." said Manfred quietly. "Maybe there is more to them tahn meets the eye, but if that's so then I think we've seen the most of what they can do." Stepping back into the warm circle of the campfire, Manfred lowered himself back down to the ground and yawned sleepily. "Accident or not, it matters little. When Rutgar gives the word, we'll tear them down and obliterate their blasphemy once and for all. You never know..." Manfredadded with a wicked grin, "...we might even use the stone to build the latrines!"

Dieter laughed and rejoined his Captain by the campfire, feeling much more at ease. Manfred was right, of course. They were just crude statues. Why, come the clear light of day he would wonder whatever possessed him to take such fright over two lumps of inanimate stone. Stretching out, Dieter opened a wineskin and offered some to Manfred. It was all utterly absurd. After all, what could possibly go wrong? Some distance away at the edge of the woods, evil red eyes reggarded the pair of soldiers intently, before disappearing back into the undergrowth. A few moments later, a long drawn-out howl shattered the calm.

And then it began to rain.

* * * *

As the Goblins surged forward forward to attack, animosity broke out in the ranks almost immediately, cancelling out much of the tactical advantages of surprise and rapid approach. The noise of squabbling Gobbos getting nearer roused Manfred' force who were soon ready for action. Those Goblin mobs not affected by squabbling surged onwards to join the attack. The Wolf Boyz, with their speed and agility quickly sped through into the heart of Manfred's troops.

Meanwhile on the other flank, the Squig Hunters and Netters were getting into difficulties. The expert Halfling archers picked them off in the darkness and decimated the units as they advanced. The other Empire volleys were far less effective and caused only minor damage to the ravening hordes.

Oddgit managed to impose his authority on the big mob of Gobbo spearmen and led them into a head-on attck against Manfred's block of Halberdiers. He also unleashed the Fanatics who caused horrific damage amongst the ranks of Halberdiers gave way, having been hacked down to a mere handful. The rest of the Empire battle line began to panic.

There followed a savage battle of attrition. Just when Oddgit feared taht his army had degenerated into a useless rabble, the Halberdiers gave way, having been hacked down to a mere handful. The rest of the Empire battle line began to panic.

Oddgit himself had managed to avoid losing his head to the rising Waaagh energy, a lot of which had drained into the fallen idol. In the darkness and confusion, with Gobbos running amok and isolated groups of Empire troops attempting to hold them off, Oddgit rooted about the fallen idol and found the Crown of Gork. He furtively hid it in his filty robes and slunk off to deliver it to his master.

Manfred had fallen heroically while trying to rally his troops at the very heart of the fighting. Despite the death of his captain, Rutgar - unaware of the existance of the Crown of Gork - regarded the battle as a victory. After all, the Goblins had not recaptured their idols, he reasoned, but had scattered and vanished into the wilderness.

In vengence for the loss of a good retainer, Rutgar ordered the idols to be smashed into pieces with gunpowder, a task which his men were only too pleased to do - although several unfortunate sappers were crushed when the other statue also toppled over as the barrels were being placed.

* * * *

The battle was a real test of nerves for the Empire troops. The Goblins surprise attack at night, combined withthe eerie presence of the idols, filled the superstitious troops with foreboding. Only Manfred's down-to-earth leadership could make them stand firm, which they managed to do until overwhelmed by superior numbers. The Halflings proved their long experience as Goblin fighters, shrugged their shoulders at the eerie noises and Gobbo mayhem, and kept up the shooting. Most survived the battle to enjoy a hearty breakfast!

Oddgit's boyz were attacking in the best possible conditions for Night Goblins and so stood an excellent chance of winning but were very nearly robbed of victory by the sorry and all too familiar tale of Gobbo squabbling, which threatened to destroy their many advantages. The battle demonstrated the effectiveness of Fanatics used offensivly in the assault, followed up by a dense mob of Goblin hand-to-hand fighters.

Snagga's Ambush
Rutgar's messengers arrived in Altdorf, unaware of the outcome of the Goblin attempt to snatch the mysterious Crown of Gork. There they set about finding wizards among the various colleges of magic. Their task was to persuade at least one wizard, maybe more, to return with them to Rutgar's domain to solve the problem of the sinister Orc idols.

Rutgar wanted his lands purified of all lingering taint of the Orcs. The idols were obviously potent with Orc magic and were dangerous things to leave where they were to menace his people. Rutgar had rightly concluded thatbthey would act as a magnet for Orcs and Goblins, drawing tribes towards them with their strange and unnatural powers. The best way to keep the Orcs form returning to their lost lands was to uproot the idols and break them up. Before that could be done, however, the noble realised that in order to counteract the power of the idols, he would enlist the aid of a wizard skilled enough to negate their dark power.

Eventually, after much searching, they found a wizard crazy enough to accompany them back to Rutgar. His name was Zorn, and for certain reasons which he would not reveal to them he was keen to set off for the distant land as soon as possible. He gathered together his own retinue of bodygaurds and mercenaries and set off over the mounatins to the Border Princes. The party rested for a few days at Frederik's castle where they gathered cannons and futher supplies for Rutgar. Then they set off the for the last and most hazardous stretch of the route through the wilderness.

* * * *

Some of Grotfang's boyz were deep inside Rutgar's territory, which was once Orc tribal land. Their task was to scout for ways of getting up to Rutgar's camp undetected. They had been successful up till now and has remained hidden form the infrequent human scouts. In fact, they had penetrated as far as the only track linking Rutgar's camp to frederik's castle - and beyond that was the road to the Empire.

Taking up a vantage point on a ridge of hills, they spied a column of dust. It was Zorn and his escort heading for Rutgar's camp. Snagga, leader of the warband, was eager for battle. Grotfang would reward him well for intercepting and wiping out his enemy's reinforcements.

* * * *

Zorn's escort was travelling in a column, with the Pistoliers in front as the vangaurd and the Outriders at the rear. They knew this was enemy territory, but had little inkling that an ambush was so close. Without warning, the Orcs surged over the ridge of hills. In moments, a howling mob of Boar Boyz, led by Snagga himself, was heading towards the war wagon near the front of the column.

At the same time, two mobs of Wolf Boyz headed straight for the front and rear of the column. But, being well trained in the art of column protection, theEmpire units immediately turned about and had no troble chasing off the Wolf Boyz.

Meanwhile however, Snagga's boyz had been hacking down the Greatswords who had dared to stand in their way. With a screaming horde of blood-crazed, boar-mounted Orcs bearing down on it, the war wagon fled in panic, the horses ou of control terrified at the sight and smell of the Boar Boyz.

The Flagellant were not at all worried by this turn of events and immediately flung themselves upon the Black Orcs who were now descending at full pelt down the hillside. By this time, both artillary pieces had been deployed and ranged on Snagga, who was gathering his Boar Boyz for another attack. The shot cut swathes through their ranks, decimating the unit in a few terrible seconds.

The Ogers, clustered in the center of the column, advanced towards a new mass of Orcs and Arrer Boyz which had crested the ridge and soon drove all before them. It was not long before the Ogers were just lumbering figures on the horizon, chasing after fleeing Orcs.

Having beaten off the attack at the rear end of the column, the Outriders were riding fast up the flank to help the troops still hard pressed at the front. Similarly, the Pistoliers now swung round and charged the Black Orcs in their rear. Together with the Flagellants, they sealed the doom of the Black Orcs.

Ulrich stayed close by Zorn and the guns throughout the battle, from where he was able to direct everything that occured. One of Zorn's spells, directed at Snagga himself, was totally absorbed and sucked from Zorn's mind by the awesome gaping maw depicted on Snagga's shield. Ulrich almost found himself wondering whether this wizard, for whom he had treaked a thousand miles, was all that good after all! Nevertheless, Snagga made his getaway. The column gathered itself back into marching formation once more and continued to Rutgar's camp.

The Battle of Troll Rocks
From a safe vantage point, Grotfang surveyed the scene of Rutgar's encampment> He observed the workmen quarrying stone and loading it onto wagons. In the distance, on the top of the very hill where his stronghold once stood, the humans were now building their own fortress. Grotfang knew he must attack soon, before the humans finished building their castle. If he delayed any longer, he would never get his tribal lands back.

Some time later, back in his own camp, Grotfang summoned his new adviser, the Orc shaman Dreg, who had recently risen to pre-eminence in the eyes of the warlord.

"Da 'umanz iz buildin' a fortress on my flippin' hill!" Grotfang snarled angrily. "Dat meenz we gotta sort 'em out now before dey putz cannons an' fings on it."

"Dis iz true, boss," Dreg agreed

"Yer, it iz. I said so, did'n I? But we needz more boyz. We gotta get ovver tribes ter come in wiv us an I wants yer to organize it, know wot I mean?"

"I fink so", said Dreg dubiously. "But yer'll have ter promise 'em somefink."

"Wot?"

"Dunno," said Dreg, looking at the sky as if in search of some divine inspiration.

"Wot if da 'umanz have got gold hid in dat fort wot dey is buildin'?" suggested the warlord in a flash of inspiration.

"Yer! Dat's why dey is buildin' it in da first place, innit, wink wink? I follows yer finkin', boss, we can get some ovver warbosses ter come in wiv us if we promises de some of da gold! Brill plan, boss! But..."

"But wot?" said Grotfang.

"Wot if dere really ain't no gold an' da ovver bosses gets miffed?"

"Don't matter," replied the warboss. "Jus' tell'em dat we fink dere iz gold. Wouldn't ya jump at da chance ter bash da 'umanz fer da prospeck of some treshur, Dreg?"

"Course I wud!" the shaman declared, now conivinced in the sense of the plan.

"Right den, Dreg, get out there and find yer shaman mates in da Broken Toof, da Crooked Claw, da Itchy Skab and da ovver tribes wot iz roamin' about round here and give 'em an offer dey can't refuse!"

* * * *

Dreg scurried off to various sacred Orcy places in the wilderness in search of other shamans. Eventually, in the depths of one particularly dark fungus-encrusted cave he encoraged a familiar bundle of muddy rags and bones.

"Nazbog! I wud recognize dem spiky pitz anywhere. It's Dreg, yer old mate!" announced Dreg to the reeking bundle.

"So yer found me at last, yer git!" said Nazbog cheerfully.

"Are yer sill wiv da Itcy Skab, Nazbog?" A grunt seemed to confirm this. "I bin lookin' fer da Crooked Claw an' da Broken Toof, ave yer seen 'em?"

"Nar. Last I 'eard wuz da Broken Toof ave shifted up into Stunty lanz fer some fun. As fer da Crooked Claw, dey is no more! Didn't yer 'ear da story? pull up a skull an' park yerself."

Nazbog described the terrible end of the Crooked Claw tribe to Dreg as the two shamans roasted some cave fungus over a fire. Then Dreg raised the prospect of a pact between Grotfang's Iron Claws and the Itchy Skab tribe, who were led at the time by the warlord Uzguz. The shaman slipped in a mention of a huge horde of gold which the humans had stashed in the castle that they were building. Tempted by the thought of the treasure, Nazbog agreed to persuade Uzguz and the tribe to migrate southwards to join forces with Grotfang. A rendezvous was agreed at a place called Troll Rocks.

* * * *

Some days later, a rider charged into Rutgar's camp at full speedto report that a band of Orcs had been spotted massing near a big cluster of boulders out in the hills. The stones were already familiar to Rutgar, as they marked the boundary of his new domain. Something had to be done straight away to deter the Orcs from invading his lands.

Rutgar ordered his trusty henchman, Konrad, to set out immediately with a strike force of cavalry, to attack and rout the Orcs. Konrad was a renowned Orc hunter who had fought Orcs before when he led forces in distant Kislev. Rutgar believed that these were undoubtedly the very same tribe that Frederik had warned him would try to recapture their lands and he was not about to let that happen.

Actually it was Uzguz and his Itcy Scabs who had set up a ramshackled encampment beneath Troll Rocks. Due to an unfortunate problem with mutually inintelligible Orc dialects and the inherent brain-rotting problems of performing too much Orc shamanic magic, the shaman Nazbog had misinterpreted Dreg's instructions and led the tribe to completely the wrong place. The Iron Claw were at that moment encamped miles away, wondering when the Itchy Skab tribe would appear! Meanwhile Uzguz had been waiting for several days and was beginning to get anxious. It occurred to him that the sneaky Iron Claws mighty have changed their minds, or something worse, when Konrad's men suddenly appeared on the scene.

* * * *

Despite begin severely harried by the Empire troops, Uzguz and the Itchy Skab tribe defended their en-campment well and fustrated Konrad's force in all of its efforts to set fire to their huts. As soon as the alarm was raised in the encampment, the entire open area between the huts was filled with Arrer Boyz ready to defend their new settlement. This made it difficult for the Kislevite horse archers, riding fast ahead of the rest of the raiders, to get into the village or close to the huts with their buring arrows and continually risked being shot down themselves by the Orc arrows.

The infantry archers and crossbowmen moved up to shoot on the right flank and were achieving some success in setting alight one of the huts, when they were confronted by Nazgob leading a howling mob of Trolls. The Trolls lumbered menacingly forward and soon had the Halflings and crossbowmen giving way before tem, albeit very reluctantly, and wasting precious arrows on them with little or no effect. On the opposite flank, Uzguz himself leading his Boar Boyz was tackling the Pistoliers and soon managed to scatter them.

In despair, Konrad watched all of his tactics failing, his raid coming to naught and the Orcs rapidly gaining the upper hand. Most of his men were returned having ridden right round the huts without buring down any more of them. Konrad gathered his force and made his escape as the sun set. Uzguz followed after them and must have caught them somewhere in the wilderness, for Konrad never returned to deliver his report to Rutgar.

The Battle for Rutgarburg
It was the day when the destinies of many hung in the balance. Grotfang and his army were about to make their final assult on Rutgar's encampment. The noble's retinue was occupying the site of Grotfang's old stronghold, from which the Orc lord had been ousted by Margraf Frederik. But now, the Warboss had sworn, it would be his once more.

The settlers had named their new home Rutgarburg, in honour of their commander. High on the most prominent hill, Rutgar's men had started to build a new castle. They had not had time to progress beyond the foundations, so the castle consisted of little more than incompleate stretches of stone walls and the restored Orc watchtower. Rutgar intended to use this as a strong point in his defensive line in the battle which he knew must come. Grotfang had cunningly decided to attack before the castle was completed, knowing that any delay could make the human forces far harder to root out and kill. This was his last chance of recapturing his old tribal lands. He knew that he must not fail.

Everyone in the Rutgarburg was hard at work, either labouring on the castle building or training with weapons. Suddenly the watchman, using the old Orc keep as a look-out tower, blew loudly on an immense horn. The effect was instantaneous and rapid. As his people struggled into armour and cavalrymen called for their horses, Rutgar scrambled up the ladders inside the keep to take a look for himself. There was no doubt about it: today would be the day. A huge horde of enemy troops were approached fast across the plain. Quickly Rutgar set about mustering his men as the Orc tide surged relentlessly onward, bearing down on Rutgarburg.

* * * *

Grotfang raised his notched blade and began the traditional war chant of his tribe: "Iron Claw! Iron Claw! Iron Claw! Waaagh!" The chant was taken up enthusically by the entire horde, their cracked voices ululating in a manic bloodlust. Leathery hands battered the bladesof rough-hewn weapons against metal-rimmed shield in the vaguest approximation of a rhythm. Soon the din was making the mob's shamans feel dizzy, their minds began whirling with wild incantations. Their fingertips crackled with unstable Orcy energy and thunder began to rumble overhead to match the pounding of the soilders' feet.

Close by, the ancient idols of Gork and Mork, one flat on its face, the other peering down at the battlefield from their sacred hill, creaked and groaned to accompany the eerie dirge of the shaman. The Orc gods were with their crazed followers today.

The Iron Claw tribe was back, and the land was theirs for the taking.

* * * *

Despite the surprise appearance of the enemy forces on the horizon, Rutgar's army deployed rapidly and the Knight panters, Ogers and the volly gin were able to advance across the battlefield while Grotfang was still organising his somewhat ragged and temperamental battle line. The Orcs then began hurling huge rocks from several large war machines, onto the Knights, whose ranks were swelled by the many who had made the long journey to join Rutgar and help him win the land from the Orcs, resolutely rode onwards. Zorn's Ogers, advanced alongside the Knight Panters, engaged a skirmishing screen of Savage Orc archers, who had become a little bit over-enthusiastic. After a ferocious battering at the hands of the Ogers, they were soon running back towards their own side.

Meanwhile the Knight Panter smashed into a huge mob of Goblin spearmen led by Oddgit. Unfortunately there were no Fanatics in the unit to unleash and the Knights quickly routed the Gobbos. The sight of this shameful event was too much for the Orc Rocklobber crews nearby who dropped their stones and also fled the field of war. This meant that the whole left flank of Grotfang's army was now in flight.

Luckily, the Orcs and Goblins on Grotfang's right flank were doing rather better. None of the Empire guns had done any real damage and the volley gun were holding their fire. The great mob of Night Goblins and its Fanatics advanced towards the massed ranks of Rutgar's Halberdiers. The Fanatics cut a swath through the Halberdiers' ranks, but the latter marched on regardless to engage the Gobbos. The Goblins fought well and hurled the Halberdiers reeling bacwards between the Halflings and Tileans, who were looking on with dismay and disbelief. Thus Rutgar's left flank seemed to be in serious danger of giving way.

Seeing the precarious situation developing, the Flagellants, lurking among the half-built walls of Rutgarburg, suddenly charged into the nearest approaching mob of Orcs, who were rushing on to exploit the gap created by the Goblins. The Flagellants fought hard with the Orcs and finally routed them, hacking them down to the last Orc even as they attempted to flee the scene.

At this point, with the battle raging, tragedy struck the shaman, Nazgob. The excitement of Grotfang's multitudes clashing at last with their bitter foes was too much for a shaman who was only used to the power created by a small tribe. Stuffed full of crazily swirling Orcy magic, his head exploded like a puffball fungus, leaving only a scatter of tattered robes. With Oddgit also in full flight, Grotfang was deprived of all his magic. For his part, Zorn, prehaps the most enigmatic of wizards, apparently lurked somewhere within Rutgarburg. His spells, it was later claimed, had something to do with the defeat of Grotfang's left flank.

The only troops who had not lost their nerve on Rutgar's left flank were of course, the plucky Halflings, who charged a massive block of Night Goblins in the flank and, as luck would have it, cut them to pieces. This rescued the situation there, and may well have turned the tide of battle. On the far right, the Panthers tried to rein in their panicking mounts while the Ogers faced off against Oddgit's mob. Oddgit, confidently marching at the head of his rallied boyz, attacked the Ogers and swarmed all over them.

The victorious Goblins then surged forward into the Panthers. Here, however, they met their ultimate doom. The Panters turned and fought with an almost inhuman determination. Ulric sounded the Horn of Urgok which threw the Gobbos into panic and caused them to scatter across the plain. The Panters spurred on their horses to finish them off. Grotfang's left flank had now ceased to exist. So to assist their comrades, the Knight Panters wheeled around in an extended battle line to outflank the remainder of Grotfang's army.

In an immense fusillade, all of Rutgar's artillary now opened fire in an attempted to halt Grotfang's solid and relentless centre as it advanced. All the cannons misfired at the same point in this cannonade, inclueding the volly gun, slaying the crews and doing little real damage elsewhere. Zorn emerged from the tower and directed searing fireballs and blasts directly towards Grotfang, exposed on the flank of a big Orc unit. These scorched the warlord, but he strangly survived.

The sun was now setting. The crazy Flagellants had plunged into a horde of Black Orcs as they chased after the last of the Orc Big'Unz. Unprepared for such a ferocious assault, the Flagellants disappeared under the Orc axes.

Despite this success, Grotfang's attention was now now on the steady line of Knight Panters levelling their lances ready to charge his troops. He knew his remaining boyz could not stand against so many knights. Already, numerous scumbags were cowardly deserting taking advantage of the impending twilight to slink off. Grotfang, with three quarters of his tribe lying slain around him, decided to sneak off as well. The Orcs escaped into the gloom of the surrounding wilderness. Finally when they were sure that no Orc remained in the area the Knights regrouped and gathered at the campfires of the remaining Halflings, who were already tucking into a well-earned supper.

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