Descent into The Battlescar

https://i.ibb.co/3WYPgJ9/Dwarves.jpg

The Battlescar is a battlefield in Southern Barrens, where the nation of Theramore of the Alliance and the Horde fight against each other for the land. The Alliance has settled a stronghold at the eastern side of the battlefield, called Fort Triumph, while the western part is controlled by the Horde, which founded Desolation Hold on top of what was the Field of Giants.



Incomiiiing !

Khaz Modan's Infantry dwarves dived for cover behind stone barricades as another barrage of goblin artillery from the other side of the Battlescar fell from the sky upon them.


The cover proved true for most, but an unfortunate Recruit was caught, collapsing into a heap before being pulled into hard cover by a Stoneguard and a fellow Recruit.


A Priest quickly made her way down the line to begin healing said Recruit, who had had a chunk taken out of him by the artillery shell.


Those -blasted- goblins. Grimsteel hissed, standing up again to glare across towards where they were set up.


He made his decision quickly, he couldn't let his soldiers just sit here for target practice. He beckoned for a Longbeard.


Sergeant. Take the scouts and Ironbreakers around the side and take out that damned artillery.


The aged dwarf arched an eyebrow at the order.


That'll take a while, sir. We'll need a distraction.


You'll have one. Ironbreakers ! Recruits ! Begin to form up ! We advance into the Battlescar in five minutes!


An unsupported battleline, sir? Dwalin asked again, arching both eyebrows. Grimsteel snarled.


A calculated risk, Sergeant. Now get your scouts and Ironbreakers and take out those green runts !


As the Sergeant made his way off, bellowing at scouts and Ironbreakers to follow him as he went. Grimsteel hopped off the stone barricade he had perched himself on and went to the now formed up line, he called out to rearrange them.


Three ranks, Infantry ! Three ranks!


They shuffled into position and he nodded, slotting himself into a position in the front rank.


MARCH !


As they began to march the goblin artillery fell again, but in their excitement they had not yet adjusted their trajectory and the shells slammed into the now vacant cover as the Infantry advanced towards one of the ramps that led down into the Battlescar, which was currently controlled by the Horde, General Grimsteel had yielded control of the place for now so his forces could regroup.


Incoming ! Horde force ! They're making a charge up the ramp !


A human lookout called from high up on the edge of the Battlescar as the Infantry drew close.


Double-time, Infantry ! Keep your ranks and advance to the top of the ramp! Quickly now ! On me !


The Infantry responded, and within a minute they were in position, plated Ironbreakers in the front, chainmail wearing Recruits at the back and a mix of the two in the middle.


Prepare rifles ! Let us try this drill we practised back home ! FIRST RANK. MAKE READY TO FIRE !



With the click of primed rifles the entire first rank brought their rifles up, aiming down the slope, the Horde now a third of the way up. They paused for just a moment, before their leader, a snarling orc, urged them onwards. Grimsteel pulled his three-barreled pistol free and aimed it along with his men.


FIRST RANK ! FIRE !


The ripple of gunshot sounded down the line as every front rank Ironbreaker pulled the trigger, there were one or two misfires, but the sheer amount of shot sent at the oncoming Horde was enough to scythe down most of their front rank, but they pushed onwards. The front rank of the Infantry formation took a knee and began to reload, remembering the drill without needing encouragement, the second rank brought their rifles up.

SECOND RANK ! FIRE !


Another ripple of gunshot, a few more misfires, some plain misses from nervous Recruits, but still, the sheer volume of shot caused yet more orcs and tauren and trolls to fall. The second rank took knee just as another barrage of Goblin artillery smacked around, a large amount of it scattered wide, but one shot landed on target - Taking a good portion of a section on the right hand side of the line out of action, Priests made ready to move up after the last volley. Never-the-less the Recruits of the third rank brought their rifles up.

THIRD RANK ! FIRE !

A final ripple of gunshot, not too accurate, these were Recruits after all, and most of the right-hand side of the line was shaken after seeing an artillery shell land so close to them and take both Ironbreakers and Recruits out of action. The Horde stumbled, around half their number dead, but they continued up, they were two-thirds of the way there by now.


On yer feet ! On yer feet ! DRAW ARMS ! DRAW ARMS !

With a cry the Infantry pulled themselves to their feet, rifles being dropped, hammers and axes and shields coming free.
Grimsteel took the chance to look up, quickly eyeing the position of the goblin artillery, he saw a flash of dark red scalemail and then a flash of a blue hood. Then the skirmish force opened fire at the goblins and their guards. The General looked down to the orcs again. The Infantry was ready.

CHARGE ! FOR KHAZ MODAAAN!

FOR KHAZ MODAAAN ! the dwarves replied as they charged down the slope, leaving the wounded to the Priests.

The dwarves had high ground on their side, and were not tired from a charge up a hill. They routed the small Horde force with relative ease, even as the Recruits and Ironbreakers torched the goblin artillery and made off before reinforcements arrived.
Grimsteel grunted, slamming his hammer into the head of the orc sergeant with a satisfying crunch.

The majority of the Horde forces were converging on the Battlescar, themselves returning from respite. A horn sounded behind Grimsteel, signalling the imminent arrival of other Alliance forces as well. He nodded and gave the order to pull back, the Infantry retrieved dropped rifles and carried off wounded as the column of human and dwarf soldiers marched down the ramp into the Battlescar to once more start the meatgrinder that was this infernal and useless piece of land.