Anyway got one turn played yesterday afternoon!!
Bit of background - thought I'd set this in the Orc's Drift campaign -
With the Goblin Hordes mobilised against the Grand League in the East, under the agreement between King Fyarr and the Goblin King, Murgol, various lesser chieftains saw their chance at some easy pickings. Fingral Crackscratcha was one such opportunist. His columns of orc warriors trailed the seething mass of Hill Goblins swarming towards the defences of Ramalia, peeling away in the night down the mountain pass that led towards Ortar itself - Fingral had no desire to fritter away his strength against the Grand League's army in a pitched battle with only Goblins to cover his flanks.
As dawn sullenly broke, the grey sky glowered over the hamlets and farms that lay on the outskirts of the city. Fingral licked his lips in anticipation of the slaughter. His leering grin froze - something glinted in the pale and watery sunlight. The faint call of horns rose up and tiny points of light moved through the fields as the sun caught shields and breastplates. They formed up into little squares that blocked the highway. It could mean only one thing - Ortar was defended.
The Impasse at Ortar Pass
The lead elements of the Orc column form up - Ruglud's Armoured orcs take the centre with Fingral and his bodyguard. Covering their right flank is Wyva Longface and his boyz, whilst Gronit Dead-eye's archers bring up the left. The shaman, Dravid Coppafeal, leads two drooling trolls on the extreme left and his doltish apprentice, Avva Badded, prances and gibbers between the two orc mobs.
Meanwhile the first real fighting broke out on the battlefield. As Wyva's orcs stepped nervously into the wood there worst fears were confirmed. Three enraged wildcats pounced on the unfortuate orcs' flank. Seconds later a ripple of fear swept the Orcish ranks as Atkrinson crashed into them. A guttural command from Longface steadied them but their predicament worsened as an enraged Zoat joined the fray. Four Orcs fell to the wildcat's ferocious claws and another was trampled beneath the Zoat's thundering hooves. As if this wasn't enough Atkrinson crushed another three. A rout was narrowly avoided by Wyva's threats and oathes but the Orcs were pushed back out of the wood.
The rest of the Alliance units edged forward, strengthening the line and the various magic users prepared their incantations.
Gaspar the Wise, the dwarf wizard sent a terrible wind against the Orc archers forcing them to the ground - the Alliance line would be safe from their arrows for the moment. The druid, Breward, created a magical bog in front of the trolls blocking their path, happy in the knowledge that his actions would not cause the death of even these foul creatures. Suffering no such scruples, Pennan Tellur, arch-mage of Merlinas, sent forth a trio of magical lightning bolts in response to Coppafeal's magical attack on the archers. One of the trolls was incinerated, its ability to regenerate negated by the flames.
And so ends the opening turn of the game - the Alliance appear to be mounting a strong defense but does Fingral have a few tricks up his sleeve? Can three units of orcs and a couple of trolls really constitute the true fighting strength of his tribe...
Tune in next time for the next gripping instalment!