Orc's Drift - The Grand Finale

[Braxandur]

No matter how long it took, it makes my day every time I see a new post and sometimes reread everything, for the share amount of nice pictures in here.

Vey interested in what you make of the sequel of the magnificent Sven 

[dinohunterpoa]

WOW!!!  

As always, lovely models, inspiring scenery and a great battle report!  Seemed like a game as FUN as it is supposed to be, CONGRATULATIONS and THANK YOU SO MUCH for sharing and inspiring us!!! 

[joroas]

Thankyou for sharing the nostalgia of a more enjoyable and more youthful age.

[Thantsants]

Glad to be of service!

I hope to get the last game written up and photographed over the next couple of weeks as I'm on my hols and might be able to string more than five minutes together!  

[Mason]

Glad to be of service!

I hope to get the last game written up and photographed over the next couple of weeks as I'm on my hols and might be able to string more than five minutes together! 

  etc.............

[Thantsants]

Well this is perhaps one of the longest (perhaps excluding Phreedh's brilliant if tardy SOBH write-up) although possibly not the most eagerly anticipated, as I'm sure it dropped off your radar a long while back, battle report to come along in a while.

And the wait is almost over...

By way of the usual pathetic excuses here are some of the reasons for my delay -

http://teasgettingcold.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/summer-blockbuster.html

So to remedy matters I've put together an annoyingly over-hyped trailer to get you all back in the zone - its been a while I know!

Its also a good opportunity to share with you some rather exciting developments over in blogland with regards to a growing movement or community who share a love for Oldhammer -

http://old-hammer.blogspot.co.uk/

Oldhammer in short is a way of harking back to the good old days of narrative wargaming with interesting and often amusing scenarios unconstrained by the latest editions of army lists. Zhu puts it much better in his Oldhammer Contract -

http://realmofzhu.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/oldhammer-contract.html

We're currently putting together a fanzine, have launched a painting competition and are constantly on the lookout for 2nd/3rd ed WFB players to meet up with.

If any of that floats your boat we'd be more than glad to have you on board!

Anyway - back to a bit of that narrative style, scenario led gaming I was on about.

Sit back, press the play button and picture the scene...

A peaceful vale nestled between rugged, yet beautiful mountain ranges (fade to black)



Animals graze contently in pleasantly bucolic surroundings (fade to black)



They came to build a bridge... (fade to black)



... but little did they know...




...they would end up fighting for Orc's Drift,



their lives,



and the whole of Ramalia itself!



This summer



Coming to a computer near you




The last thrilling instalment of







Bloodbath at Orc's Drift

[phreedh]

 

Still looking forward to it!

[Mason]

Oooooh!

Yes, please!

 







It was getting to the point where we may have had to hunt you down, to be honest!
 

[Thantsants]

Cheers fellas - a bit more to whet your appetites (sorry Phreedh - you'll have seen this on the blog already - some actual action to come this evening... )

Osrim scowled into his stew ration with renewed testiness. It wasn't that the dish lacked meat or flavour - he'd given up hoping for either soon after he had volunteered his service to the Grand League's Engineering Corps.




It was that... Elf. Even thinking about that word made his fists itch. Osrim stabbed viciously at a hapless lump of turnip. Mudpies he had sneered, do carry on with your mudpies... It was enough to make a Dwarf do half a job out of spite. Almost.


The bridge had been pretty much the only thing keeping his little unit of sappers together. Ill feeling was running high at missing out on the action going on over at Ortar. All the lads wanted to do was crack a few Goblin skulls and yet here they were playing at... mudpies.


The rest of those pointy-eared fops weren't helping either. As if there leader Broomhead, or whatever he was called wasn't bad enough. Osrim was feeling less and less inclined to talk his Dwarfs down from adding some of those pointy ears to their trophy collections on the now regular occasions when a spat had developed - incited of course by those arrogant little...


Then came a sound he hadn't expected. A clear and shrilly declaimed note sounding out from the peaks that towered above them. A note which shook him to his senses and put his worries and grudges firmly into perspective. A note that made him the only obstacle between the enemy and their ultimate goal - the capital, Palesandre.

*********************************

Brommedir paced back down the line again, casting a stern eye over the Elves who stood stiffly to attention before him.

"Very good, very good. Spick and span as it should be."



Then again, was everything as it should be? A frown threatened to crease Brommedir's flawless brow. It had seemed like the perfect command at first - Guarding the supply lines to the front at Ortar would give him and his unit plenty of time to do what they did best; polishing their armour, oiling their bows and showing off their fine looks in regular military reviews.

There were, however, several flies in the ointment. That Dwarf who was in charge of the bridge - he hadn't caught his name as the damned fellow had been mumbling as usual. That Dwarf had been acting very suspiciously and Brommedir was becoming increasingly concerned over the safety of the Army paychest that had been put into his care.

The Druid hadn't made a good impression on him either - even less so when he wnadered past, drunk as usual, and made jibes at his fine Elven bowmen as they stood ready for inspection. Toy soldiers indeed! No, that glassy eyed stare and nervous energy that seemed to permanently animate Snart certainly unnerved Brommedir.



As if all that wasn't enough, he now had rank insubordination in his own ranks, as he turned and saw a ripple of movement flow down his beautifully straight ranks. This was intolerable - he couldn't have his once proud looking bowmen looking about them, shuffling their feet nervously and generaly fidgeting in a most unprofessional manner.

"I say, this won't do. This won't do at all..."

Brommedir began a severe reprimand but was caught short by his junior officer - the one who always seemed to shout at him in an incredibly rude manner.

"SIR, SIR. ITS THE ALARM BELL. ORCS SPOTTED ACROSS THE RIVER!"

Elves began moving to defensive positions and Brommedir, never one to be outdone, offered a rather strangled sounding...

"Thats it men, to your stations. Very good, very good."

Brommedir also noticed with satisfaction that the Dwarfs were busying themselves with makeshift barricades using grain sacks, furniture and whatever else came to hand.  He just hoped that they were selecting only the cleanest sacks to be filled and put onto the barricade, if he was going to be defending it.

At least the thought momentarily kept his mind off the fact that they were, as he too now realised, the last line of defence between the approaching Orcs and the capital city, Palesandre...

[Thantsants]

and the other side's view of things...

King F'yar exalted in the sense of power that coursed through his whole body. The great dorsal muscles of his Wyvern mount surged powerfully beneath him and he narrowed his eyes against the rushing winds to gaze at the land that lay stretched invitingly before him.



Great mountains dwindled into foothills, the narrow passes widened into valleys, in whose depths rivers sparkled in the sunlight before vanishing beneath dark clumps of forest. His eyes lingered on the great patchwork of fields, ran along the roads that criss-crossed back and forth, and which led eventually to the glittering citadel of Palesandre.



He smiled to see the conflagration to the East - a sure sign that his alliance with King Murgol of the Hill Goblins was alive and well. A sure sign indeed that the Grand League had fallen for his plan and that the way lay open to his prize.

The Wyvern banked and swooped to a lower altitude with a little assistance from F'yar's boot and the landscape rushed to meet him. Ah, there it was. Still an insignificant speck nestled amongst the foothills, yet it commanded both the crossing over the river Canis and the main highway that led to Palesandre. If his army were to take the capital, Orc's Drift must fall.

And what of his army? The Orcish King once more scoured the roads and passes that wound their way down from the peaks. Small plumes of smoke punctuated the path his old Tribe, the Kwae Karr, had taken from Linden Way and it seemed they were within striking distance of Orc's Drift. His heart swelling with pride, F'yar searched eagerly for his allies.



Dawdling far to the North West were two ant-like columns, labouring their way down the Kachas road. Fools! They were a long way off from linking up with the Kwae Karr and their numbers seemed to have dwindled significantly too. Whether this was through attrition or cowardice, F'yar cared not. A black rage descended upon him and he plunged his hapless mount into a steep dive.

What need did the King have for such pathetic minions. He would crush them underfoot once he had wiped the remains of the Grand League's finest from his steel-shod boots.  Had not he, the Tyrant of the North, single-handedly  murdered the Half Elf King and plunged the Grand League into disarray? Had not he, F'yar the Merciless, laid a trap big enough for the Grand League's entire army? Had not he, Scourge of the Northlands, Crusher of Hearts, raised the largest, most fearsome horde of Orcs that had ever menaced the lands of Ramalia?

Yes, Orc's Drift was his for the taking. The glory would be his alone and those who cowered in his shadow would rue the...



A terrible rippling and rending noise from below tore him from his reverie and both the Wyvern and its incandescent rider were suddenly born upwards as if their load had somehow been dramatically lightened. F'yar fought for control over the beast and banked into another dive back towards Orc's Drift, growling as he went,

"By the Gods, can you not still your bowels even now?"

[Mason]

 

That has certainly whet the appetite, Thatsants.

Looking eagerly forward to the main course.

 

[thebinmann]

Edge of the seat stuff here...

Did you use Fyar during one of the first three battles?

[Thantsants]

Yeah - the lads playing the Orcs decided to use him at Linden Way, probably the easiest of the three initial scenarios! Then again a lot of them were new to wargaming so I couldn't be too critical.

Personally I think the Vile Rune or Severed Hand Orcs would have been better supported by F'yar - especially at Ashak Rise with the solid defense the Dwarfs put up at the bridge...

[DeafNala]

OH BABY! As a Devoted Follower of your thread, the is GREAT NEWS! I'm laying in a supply of popcorn for the cinematic moment. The Trailer is FANTASTIC...LOVE the photos, minis, et al.

[B. Basiliscus]

Dumb wyvern...

I'm super excited for the things to come! Here's to hopefully frequent games and photos!