Battle Report

As the cowardly stubbies came into view, I could tell that they would just stand there and shoot like they had every other time that we had clashed. Some would say that they were “Stalwart” or “Stubborn”. I call them cowards. Anyone who would rather just stand and watch the blood flow from a distance rather than stand on the body parts before they’ve turned cold, is simply….far to revolted by blood for warfare.

Spreading out as to envelope the stubbies, my warriors advance on the cowardly “bearded gnomes”. Myself along with the most experienced of my warriors flanked along the left of their main line with warhounds leading the way. The young, but definitely bloodthirsty barbaric northmen advanced towards the enemy head on. On the other flank, was Horace, A rather large bumbling moron. Dumb as he may be, very combat effective and a very impressive sight to behold.

“No Man’s Land”

As was stated earlier, they just stood there and fired the cannon and their guns. It seemed as though they didn’t even want to fight. As the sounds of the screams of my men in the sights of the cannon, filled the air. My blood began to boil with anticipation of battle. They had their orders…go forward.

“Contact finally”

Horace was the first to make contact. He promptly threw himself onto a mass of the stubbies at the same time that the other group of hounds crashed into their flank. Overwhelmed by his massive weight, the remainder fled for their lives. Heh, I knew they didn’t want to fight.

When the hounds in front of us dove into the ranks of the enemy, I could not see what was happening, but the bloodshed and screams that ensued made me smile. I could sense that khorne would be pleased this day. As the remainder of the hounds fled from the stubbies, a cannonball tore through the ranks taking a few out. Heh, I knew they didn’t want to fight.

Drawing closer to battle. I could see the fear in their eyes, could smell their soiled trousers. Their hands were trembling as we approached. As we crashed into their ranks, the killing started, the only reason that I exist. To bathe in the blood of my enemies. Cut one down and another took his place. With vision going red, I continued to dispatch the child sized dwarves. They didn’t even fight back, heh, they couldn’t. as soon as they were within range, they were bleeding and dying until the last few turned tail and ran like the cowards that they are. Heh, I knew they didn’t want to fight.

At this point, Horace was eating the stubbies with the guns. Aparently this was unsettling to them because they turned and fled. After the battle, I noticed that Horace had the indention of the dwarven general’s helmet on the shield that he wears around his gut.

Cowards. I knew they didn’t want to fight.

Kharhas