Monday, 6 December 2010

Winter’s Bitter Grip

Tim (Goblins) vs Gill (Barrow Kings)
As the war continued in the north and east, the relentless advance of the Barrow Kings in the southwest continued almost uncontested. Few of their forces had been brought to arms and now the Barrow Kings were beginning to enact their most diabolical plan.
Of all the forces involved in the Last Chance War, the Barrow Kings were in perhaps the most secure position. Their western and southern flanks were completely unassailed. To their north, the Orcs were caught up in warfare with the Dwarfs. To the northeast lay the weak and largely defenceless realm of New Sylvania; and to the east, they and the Vampire Counts had the Skaven in a closing fist.
If the Barrow Kings could eliminate all opposition south of the Old Silk Road, creating an unbroken link with their undead allies, there would be nothing to stop them sweeping north. To achieve this, the New Sylvanians and Skaven needed to be wiped out but before that could achieved, the Skaven’s allies, a colony of filthy goblins lurking in the south woodlands, needed to be eradicated.

Autumn had come to a close and winter was now here, and with it, the first snows! In a sudden blizzard, the flatlands south of the Sleeping Woods were covered in an unbroken blanket of white. But this didn’t stop the Barrow Kings. They had no sense for the cold and strode purposefully through it. Up ahead the Goblins massed, waiting on either side of the fast flowing Blood River. And there was things in the midst of the Goblin army that had never been seen before: giant spiders! There were hordes of spiders the size of dogs and more the size of horses, forest goblins from the Sleeping Woods on their back. And in the centre of the waiting ranks was the Spider King, a diminutive but powerful Forest Goblin on the back of a gigantic spider!
The battle lines approached one another but before they could come into contact a series of explosions sounded as huge chaos=spawned meteorites from the dark moon of Morslieb crashed into the snow-packed earth.
Unheeding of the danger the forces came into conflict but it was immediately clear that the river was their biggest adversary. Come up on either side of its banks, both armies had their forces split and both were split unevenly. On each side of the river either the goblins overran their skeletal foes or the undead wiped out the greenskins. It was all going to come down to which side of the river fell first but even though the barrow Kings managed to destroy the forces on one side of the river, by the time they had forded the fast moving current, many of their force had been swept away.

The magic of Phallicbone, the Great Orc Shaman accompanying the Goblins pulverised his enemies and then, at the pivotal moment, reached out and crushed the Liche High Priest who controlled the undead horde.
After that the battle was lost for the Barrow Kings. The Goblins closed on their ranks but their skeletal bodies were already clattering lifeless into the ever-deepening snows.
The Barrow King’s gambit had failed. The fate of the southern Border Princes, and with it the entire Old World, remained undecided.

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