Part 4 (Turns 3 & 4)With a roar that could be heard by the swordsmen upon the far side of the field, the war elephant now charged towards Big Boss Erbad’s chariot, a sight so terrifying that Erbad immediately turned and ran. War Boss Bonemawler thanked the orcen gods Gork and Mork that the beast and its crew had ignored him - his own legs would not have carried him to safety like the boars pulling the chariot had done for Erbad!
Frustratingly for Prince Sadrin, he and his heavy camel cavalry could not get through the gap ahead of them, so they could not join in the elephant’s charge. Elsewhere, however, other Arabyans did manage a charge - the Palace Spearmen chasing off a unit of wolfriders. Neither of these Arabyan charges reached the foe. These Greenskins were proving top be not only mobile but slippery too!
As the Arabyan wizards’ magic fizzled and failed, a variety of artillery pieces gave fire. The mortar proved very effective now that it did not misfire, killing three of the orc boar riders who had been squabbling - a turn of events which first snapped them out of their quarrel and then dismayed them so much that they turned and fled! At the same time, one of the canons misfired, but the other tore one of the boar chariots apart, leaving Big Boss Dufdig to continue the battle on foot, just like his master Bonemawler. Dufdig hefted his magical axe and eyed the elephant off to his right. He needed time to work out exactly what he might do next, not that he was dazed by the sudden destruction of his chariot, rather that his orcen brain was not exactly built for speedy thinking!
The goblin wolfriders on the far right realised that they could hit the elephant in its flank. Steeling themselves to overcome their fear of its huge size, and experiencing a rare surge of boldness they began to move towards it. Then, holding their spears tips high to aim at the beasts heavy cloth covered flank, they charged.
The unusually brave goblins did manage to drag one crewman out of the howdah and pierce him with spears as he lay on the ground, but while they did so three of their own number were trampled to death. Belatedly realising the utter foolishness of attempting to attack such a massive monster, the survivors now did what goblins do best and ran away.
Their bravery in charging in the first place had not gone unnoticed. Not wanting to be outdone by a bunch of pathetic goblins several orcs also charged the foe. Bonemawler, still a little unbalanced by the death of his wyvern, threw himself alone into the camel riders and challenged the prince himself to fight. Big Boss Clubcra, having decided that although there was something frightening about Gamouzo he would not let it stop him, charged headlong into the tribal warriors blocking the way to the baggage.
This proved utterly overhwelming for the southlander skirmishers: the heavy chariot tore four of them down from the impact alone, and more still were gored by the boars. Clubcra smashed Gamouzo’s head in with his Screamin’ Sword, then hacked it completely off for good measure. The last surviving tribal warriors fled along with Zadra the wizard, and were ridden down brutally by the chariot. (Zadra lay unconscious but not quite dead amongst their broken bodies.) Clubcra thus found himself in amongst the baggage he and the rest of BoneMawler’s raiders had lusted after for days. His sword was bloody, his boars enraged and he was surrounded by loot. He was in Greenskin heaven!
Still more charges were being delivered, not least the two goblin chariots who now launched themselves at the Arabyans’ cannons. They might not be as heavy as the orc boar chariots, but this had proved a boon so far, for the foe had failed to notice them and thus had not put a stop to them. One was studded with arrows, yes, but it still had momentum enough to crash into the cannon crew. Between them, these two chariots killed every gunner and crewman there. The Arabyans would not be using their guns any more this battle.
To the rear of the Greenskin’s line Big Boss Erbad figured it was safe to stop running and turn about to see what was happening. One of the goblin wolf rider units did the same. The orc boar riders and the pair of wolfriders in the very centre of the field, however, decided that they would go a little further before turning back around, just to make sure no one could reach them.
The Big Un boar riders busied themselves reforming on the rocky ground were they had dispersed the Desert Spears, to face towards the hill that was between them and their real goal - the baggage. Off on the other side of that baggage BoneMawler and the Prince of Amon were locked in combat, both drawing blood, but Bonemawler’s rage held and he fought on. The two of them now began a drawn-out combat that would see them busy thrusting, hacking and parrying for some time.
The skirmishing slave archers chose this moment to see if they could chase off the wolf chariots, as they had previously failed to finish them off with their bows. Both chariots fled (the archers charge would have allowed them to reach both), and both were actually happy about this, for their voluntary flight took them towards the Arabyan baggage! The crossbows on the hill managed to rally and reform to face the slowly advancing boar riders, though in truth their hearts were not really set upon facing a charge by a unit of Big Uns that had just chased down an entire regiment of twenty five and two of their nobles.
As the war elephant wheeled to try and get itself to a position where it might launch a telling charge, the handgunners on the hill took pot shots at Dufdig (who was running around below them on his own). The Greenskin gods must have favoured him, for all the bullets all missed. While Dufdig pranced about his fellow Big Boss, Clubcra, easily dispatched the few arab slaves willing to try and defend the baggage, and thus rolled his chariot right into the heart of the loot. (
Game note: The baggage was counted as a kind of mobile terrain feature, with four models who could be used like a cannon crew to defend it. Now that Clubcra had properly contacted it, then as long as he was alive at the end of the game then he would get the +150 VP bonus for having grabbed some loot.)
For some reason known only to themselves, the spear armed wolf riders now decided they would move towards the Palace Spearmen, as if to threaten them (
Animosity @ 6), but then they came to their senses and moved directly away again as far as they could - it was far enough that the Spearmen could not possibly reach them in a charge.
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This pic is from just before the wolfriders’ bizarrely bold turn toward the foe. )
Big Boss Erbad, however, felt a little more reckless and attempted to charge the elephant’s exposed flank with his chariot. He failed, as the beast was just too far away for his lumbering war machine to reach it. The Big Un boar riders at the bottom of the hill looked up at the crossbowmen above them …
… and decided to stop faffing about trying to reform and get on with the business of battle. They charged them, slowed a little by the rocky ground, admittedly, they would still have been able to reach them if the arabs had not chosen to flee away (which they did). Still, the board riders could now see the baggage down below them and some of them were literally salivating at the thought of what they could take.
Behind them one of the wolf chariots slowed its flight as the crew chose to stick around. The other one turned to its left to get away as quickly as possible from the archers behind. This proved a very bad decision for it passed over the rear of the rocky ground just vacated by the boar riders and jolted itself to pieces, tossing it's crew down to dash them against the rocks. Far away, next to the Greenskin’s own baggage which was behind a hill on the far side of the valley, the other boar riders finally stopped their running and turned to see if anyone was following them. As they stood there, with their own baggage closer to the foe than themselves, they wondered what BoneMawler might have to say to them later about their lack of contribution to the fighting. What they didn’t know was that BoneMawler was trying to fight an entire regiment of heavy cavalry and a heroic Arabyan prince to boot - a state of affairs that made it rather unlikely they would have to listen to his complaints that evening.
Not that BoneMawler was dead yet - he remained locked in combat with the Prince and once again drew royal blood! His fury held a bit longer and he fought on, refusing to accept that against so many his fight must surely prove ultimately futile.
While he fought, Clubcra was rolling his loot-laden chariot through the baggage, and Dufdig was still trying to get away from the war elephant. All in all the Greenskins were not having too bad a day!