The Prince surveyed the field from atop his heavily-armoured steed. "The arrogant fools" he thought as he watched the elf army slowly close with his own. In their eagerness to engage his army the Elves had allowed him to take an incredibly advantageous position in the field. They would have to slowly advance across a wide open plain while his artillery battery and hangunners laid a withering fire down upon them until they were funneled into an even smaller, constricting area by the woods. The Prince had deployed his army in a curved arc so as to make a perfect killing field of the final four-hundred yards.
The cannons thundered again, sending a bolt thrower into a thousand tiny splinters and disintegrating a brigade of flamboyantly dressed knights.
"Why had they been in such a rush to engage?" he thought. Was it plainly poor generalship, a lust for glory? Or did they know what he was searching for? Surely the dwarves may have been discovered, rotting, near some tiny Inn in this backwater forest, devoid of civilization. But that would prove nothing. He had removed the bodies of his own men very painstakingly.
Suddenly a score of men dropped from the right flank, impaled upon orange-fletched bolts. Then, from his extreme right he watched as a half-dozen, massive eagles rose from behind a copse of trees and hurtled, screeching, towards the battery of cannons.
"Present arms!” came the order and up and down the line Ferdinand could hear it echoed.
The eagles swung low, snatching at the crew of the cannons, and succeeding occasionally, taking the screaming men high into the air before either letting them fall to their deaths or rending them in two. "What monstrosities are these creatures?" the prince whispered beneath his breath.
"MAKE READY!" came the order and three hundred handguns were quickly loaded with practiced precision. Now only two crew stood by their cannon, the rest having fled or been killed. The survivors fended off the eagles' attacks with gun-swabs and ramrods.
"Take aim!"
The elves were closing now, almost within the killing field.
"FIRE!"
Scores of Spearelves dropped beneath the withering fireand the enemy's left flank quivered than turned tail and fled as thick billowing smoke filled the dead-zone between the two forces.
"Fix bayonets!" and three hundred sparkling bayonets clattered and were clicked into place.The eagles finished picking apart the last of the artillery crew and launched themselves into the air. The 3rd Carroburg halberdiers stared in terror, slowly backed away, then broke into an all out route, slipping into the woods behind the army and dissapearing like so many wisps of smoke.
"Forward March!" came the order and the line of bayonets surged forward into the bank of heavy white smoke, followed by the organized blocks of heavy infantry. Ferdinand lifted his war hammer to his shoulder as his bodyguard advanced into the chocking cloud of white vapor. The battlefield was eerily silent with only the steady rythym of marching to be heard in the stifling white bank. Suddenly they were out of the sulphorous cloud and right before them was a mass of spear elves. Ferdinand saw their general. He sat upon an expensively barded and gilded steed wearing ridiculously flamboyant amour that was normal to his race.
"Charge!" his bodyguard surged forward and collided bodily with the spears some men impaling themselves deep upon the points. Ferdinand and the elf general galloped towards each other, weapons raised. They passed each other in a whirlwind of swings and slices and both were thrown from their dying steeds, unharmed. Turning to face his opponent The Prince felt something hot against his chest and remembered the amulet. He senses were suddenly heighted and he felt a surge of raw power run through his body even as his opponent fell white as a ghost looking unusually frail. Ferdinand sprinted forward, raising his hammer above his head and bringing it crashing down towards his weakened foe. He was surprised as it was blocked, parried and a sword swung towards his neck. He easily slipped beneath it and brought a crushing blow into the elves side. He was satisfied at the sound of several ribs cracking and stared with pure hatred as the elf fell to the ground, coughing blood.
"Filthy animal" said Ferdinand. "Your kind is dying" he said as he swung his foot into the crippled elf's face. "The time of the elder races is done" he said, delivering a blow to the creature’s chest. "Now is the time of man" another kick. "It is your time to die" he said spitting on the elf as he brought his hammer above his head. "Goodbye, brother elf" he said mockingly as the hammer came swing down towards Equileous' head. Out of nowhere an elf jumped in front of his downed master, clocking the blow with his own skull which exploded in a shower of gore. Ferdinand threw the body aside but it was too late. Two elves had pulled Equileous into a circle of retreating elves.
"Another time" thought Ferdinand.
My record is 3/0/0. With a massacre, a solid victory, and a marginal victory. Massacred dwarves, solid victory @high elves and marginal against dark elves.
PS (Sorry for killing HE)