The archers reformed themselves into an extended line with a most unorcish display of drill and discipline. This precision seemed to follow on into their shooting - bringing their bows up and loosing their arrows in unison, they cackled and howled as the ditch became a ready-made grave for one of the Dwarf crossbowmmen.
Failing to actually wound any of the bridge's defenders and even losing one of their number in the mad charge, the Orcs forced the Dwarfs to retreat or risk being overwhelmed.
Meanwhile, with much yelling, shouting and even biting, Grashak wrested control of his pack back and turned them towards the bridge once more.
The mules were beginning to shift restlessly under the weight as another three cases were brought out and loaded onto them.
Grimly, the sole remaining crossbowman loaded his weapon and picked off another Orc archer.
Undaunnted by the horde of leering greenskins bearing down upon them, the four plucky Dwarfs took back the upper hand in the combat. Led forward by their chief and his son, they felled two more of the brutes and drove their attackers back across the bridge!
Cursing the cowardly wretches around him, Hagar Sheol bellowed out his orders. The trailing force moved forward and joined up with beleagured advance guard. Again, however, the Dwarfs' skill at arms made them tough targets to lay a killing blow on and two more Orcs mixed their blood with the cold, clear waters of the River Canis.
With the added momentum from behind, the Orc column acted like a battering ram on the Dwarfs' defensive line. Again Borinn and his clansmen found themselves stepping back over those they had slain but moments ago.
The archers again took their aim at the last Dwarf crossbowman. They had found their range and some of the more enterprising bowmen were attempting to drop their arrows into the ditch from on high. Sadly for the Dwarf one of them found their mark and he slouched down to join his comrades in the mud.
With shaking hands one of the mule loaders took his animal's tether in hand and began leading it towards the Linden road and safety. His two comrades looked on with more than a hint of jealousy in their gaze, before going back inside to get the last of the gold from its hiding place.
Picking their way back through the corpses that littered the bridge and its approach, Snorinn and company were able only to fend off the Orcs' attacks. Unable to gain a breathing space or take a stand, the Dwarfs were again forced back. The Orcs now had a bridgehead and things looked bleak indeed!
Again Hagar pressed home his advantage, spurring his warriors on to drive the Dwarfs back. Despite once more failing to kill any of the enemy and sustaining another casualty, the Orcs won through with strength of numbers again. Visibly shaken at the prospect of losing the gold to these savages, the Dwarfs almost broke, but luckily gold fever had the stronger pull.
Taking advantage of the gap left by the advancing Orc column, Grashak Kra spurred his charges onwards and they too crossed the bridge, followed by the archers, in search of new targets.
Finally the last of the cases of gold nuggets were loaded onto the mules, as the two Dwarfs cast the odd fearful glance at the worsening situation over by the bridge.
That situation was going from bad to worse as Borinn and his clansmen struck back. Beset on two sides, they managed to strike another foe down. Orc blades found their way past the defenses of two of the beleagured Dwarfs. Stepping back over their own dead this time, the Dwarfs again retreated in good order.
The one ray of hope (well for the Dwarf in question!) was that the lead mule team was making good progress towards the road and didn't appear to have any obstacles in its way...
As the Dwarfs are pushed back once more in a bloodless round of combat the archers took advantage of the space and crossed the bridge, opening up into extended line once more. Spying the Dwarf attempting to lead his mule very quietly to safety, they let fly an ineffective volley at long range.
Grashak Kra also spotted the danger and moved his hounds forward to intercept any Dwarfs attempting to escape along the highway.
Beads of anxious sweat joined those caused by gold fever as the two Dwarfs lashed the last of the cases of gold to their mules and began to lead the stubborn animals away from the clamour of battle.
The bitter fighting dragged on between the clansmen and the main Orc force. Two more Orcs were dispatched as the fighting swirled around Snorinn and Hagar.
The big old Chieftain was not one to turn down a challenge from a puny stuny and yet he couldn't quite conceal the look of pained surprise as the little Dwarf's sword rang against his battered helm!
The Orc archers follow on behind, eyes darting this way and that for any targets of opportunity.
The mule train hastily made for the road before it was blocked by the oncoming Orc column. The mule drivers glance worriedly up at the darting silhouettes of the hobhounds on the hill.
Risking one last look back to see how his comrades were faring, the lead mule driver turned and breathing a sigh of relief mixed with sadness and anger. The road ahead was clear and he had gold and the memories of his clansmen and their murderers to keep safe. The sound of battle soon receded as he rounded the bend and began the descent down to Linden.
The desperate struggle between Snorinn and Hagar raged on. This time it was the Dwarf's turn to feel the strength of his foe's arm as the Orc's great axe crashed into his shield.
The Orc archers' advance had paid off as one of thee mule teams lurched out onto the road ahead of them. With much arguing over how big a share they would receive should they bring the overloaded beast down, they let fly their arrows.
As the stricken mule breathed it last and its Dwarfish driver ground his teeth in despair, the Orcs began a new round of arguing over who had actually made the kill...
Not wishing to loose out on any claim to the booty, Grashak Kra spurred his hounds on to attack the third mule. The Dwarf leading it dropped the mule's tether, swung his crossbow up and fired at the oncoming hounds. The shot went wild, but the Dwarf was ready for the onslaught and deftly opened up one of the ferocious hounds' bellies as it flung itself at him. The other dogs were unable to bring the mule down straightaway as it laid about itself with powerful kicks.
Enraged at having lost another faithful hound, Grashak barged into the fray.
Had the Orc packmaster, or indeed any of his foul smelling brethren looked down the road they might have redirected their barbarism. Bathed in the golden light of the setting sun and cutting a rather ill tempered and disconsolate figure was the muleless mule driver - dragging his share of gold to freedom.
Again the Dwarfs succeeded in holding Hagar's horde at bay. Borinn again proving himself to be a real thorn in their side as he slew another two of the monsters. A wide berth opened up around the maddened dwarf and the Orcs fell back before the red ruin he dealt.
And yet the Dwarfs' apparent invulnerability couldn't last. First taking the flat of his axe to encourage the cowering warriors around him, Hagar dealt a mighty blow against Snorinn. A great roar erupted from the now emboldened Orcs as the Dwarf hero sank to his knees, helm cleft in two. Another of his clansmen joined him as the baying crowd closed in once more.
Grashak Kra's snarling hobhounds also finally succeeded in pulling the last mule to the ground. The beast's life blood mingled with the cold that cascaded from its packs into the dirt.
Borinn looked about him and despaired. As his last clansmen was struck down beside him he bowed his head in shame...
Not because he had deserted or gotten his gold through dishonest means...
As he made his last stand and bellowed his last lamenting warcry his only regret was that his gold would be sullied by rough and Orcish hands...
EpilogueThe smell of charred and roasted meat wafted through the cold mountain air as the Orcs sat around licking their chops and gnawing at the last of Dwarfs. Hagar Sheol absent-mindedly rolled a large and mishapen nugget of gold in his hand. The Stunties had fought hard and well for their treasure but to no avail. The Orc chieftain grinned - they would late arriving to the big fight but he was sure none of the other tribes would find this little venture as rewarding as he had already...So another mauling for the Orcs - not as bad as what the Vile Rune tribe suffered, but still the Severed Hand suffered a fair few casualties and wouldn't be turning up to Orc's Drift till turn 8.
The Dwarfs on the other hand amassed a huge 34.5 victory points for the gold they managed to squirrel off the table and the casualties they inflicted on the Orcs - again characters like Borinn and Snorinn proved to be absolute demons in close combat. They pretty much single-handedly held up the Orc advance and refused to rout despite being pushed back right from the bridge to near their own table edge! It was just a shame more of their party weren't alive to savour their victory in the end!
Next installment - Last Stand at Linden Way