Join up with our intrepid heroes, Auren and her brother Ristoph as they assist the dwarven General Karthax Hammerfist and his rascal of a compatriot Weasel-Fur Ivy Patch; halfling extraordinaire.
Their task, escort two clerics of Yahweh in rediscovering their ruined homeland, the Knight States of America, as it is besieged by a dragon; summoned by the antichrist himself. More
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A keen eye was kept on the ridgeline in vigilance just in case the dark forces had a moment of inspiration and had changed their archers’ placement. Throughout the remainder of the trek not one bowman was spotted on the heights. As the dwarven warriors closed the gap, the command was given by Captain Rherger in his determined voice and again echoed through the ranks. “MODIFIED TURTLE FORMATION, HOOO!”.
In unison, the dwarven vanguard commenced the maneuver. The clerics finished, then held their prayer, waiting for the right moment. In the near distance, in front of the orc lines, emerged ten figures, all shrouded in black cloaks. It began. Red bolts of vile energy leapt forth from their hands towards the dwarven front. Orc arrows were let loose from the midpoint of the cut on their precarious debris-formed ledges. A crisp energetic blast issued from the captain’s horn as one of the brothers let loose his prayer. Instantaneously, divine blue light flashed in front of the column absorbing all but four of the red bolts as four dwarves fell. They were quickly replaced by the ranks. Another cleric released God’s pent up energy. Brilliant, bright yellow lightning, streaking down from heaven incinerated all but two of the dark emissaries. It continued ripping through the ranks of the orcs with blinding fury, sending some twenty odd more to their deserved fate. Another course of arrows streamed outwards from the beasts and a few more dwarves fell; much less than if the body had not been protected by the turtle. Another shrill blast left the captain’s horn. The dwarves now advanced at a run with their archers releasing their volley into the ever increasingly panicked orcs. The orc missile battery was just about to release another volley as their leader heard the dwarven anvil’s war cry at his rear, “For the blood of the Lamb!”
The opposition’s head archer’s hesitation and indecision allowed the dwarven archers to accurately begin counter battery engagement into the orcs. The dwarven arrows cut their rivals down with exact precision. The clergy focused on their dark opponents as the wretches attempted to scurry back into the center mass of the orcish formation. One brother directed his prayer at the abyssal cowards and the remainder of black-cloaked figures stood unmoving, frozen amidst their swarm.
The sound of melee raged everywhere, splashes of red and black blood flew about, with the crushing of bones and the shredding of flesh coursing through the field. Pressing the attack, the soldiers of Iron encircled the orcs, never allowing them a retreat. The greenish gray creatures, lacking any unit cohesion and being cowards at heart, turned to run as individuals, then small groups, and finally as a whole. Dwarven battle axes continued to hack into the despicable creatures. The beasts realized their error too late. Captain Rherger ordered, “to the last, to the last, to the last!” The orcs’ eyes opened to the light in a panicked frenzy. With a final desperate attempt, the orcs met their end while the sturdy warriors of light dispatched them with ruthless determination. The dwarves followed their captain’s orders, “to the last.”