Armada / 250 points / Trapped Isle / Abyssal Dwarf Win
No one would remember his name mused the admiral, unlike that Peacock of an Ironcaster, that moron Ironjawz - what kind of a sobriquet was that anyway? The small flotilla under his command was groping around in the shroud misted expanse of the grey salty waste, waiting, or so it seemed to him, to be devoured by an unseen piratical elven menace. Unless…….unless the Ironjawz could stop preening himself and mobilise the cream of the Hell Forged fleet and serve those Corsairs to the Mighty Kraken, something he himself has abjectly failed to do on a number of occasions resulting in imminent doom.
Scanning the horizon the elvish host is sighted. They’ve split their forces, a grin spreads momentarily across the admiral’s craggy face, THEY’VE SPLIT THEIR FORCES! Hope surges through his squat frame as if Ironjawz were reanimating one of the undead scum with his lightning bolt.
To the south the pirates deployed the bulk of their force - a Soulbane, Butcher, Needlefang and Gordrake. To the north a Butcher and Needlefang. The dwarves saw their chance. The wily old admiral would block the southern force with the Leviathan of The Deep - the indomitable Arbiter of Pain and The Infernox while the remainder of the flotilla would head off the smaller northern force to prevent them combining and doing for the elite of the Hell Forged Fleet. It was a high risk strategy, especially as the dwarves are so ponderous, but they too had support from the skies with the devilish Caged Gun Worm to rain down terror.
All started well, the Butcher and Soulbane, enticed by the prize of the Arbiter of Pain sailed straight towards her. An attempt to grapple by the Butcher failed although some minor damage was caused from a salvo. The Arbiter of Pain in turn failed to land a devastating ram to put paid to the ambitions of the upstart captain of this vessel. However the infernox lashed itself to the hapless Butcher.
Meanwhile the Butcher from the northern push was managing to outpace the dispersed rest of the the dwarven flotilla - Angkor, Katuschan and Decimator. The Angkor inflicted an inconsequential hit as they passed but nothing to arrest their murderous mission. However the nimble Katuschan, channelling the rage of Ariagful, landed a devastating blow from it’s mortars and set the Butcher fully ablaze - that should slow the corsairs somewhat.
It was clear the action would hinge now on the fate of the Arbiter of Pain. The two Butchers and Souldbane were now circling the impregnable behemoth like rabid gutter dogs. The Infernox boarded the first Butcher with a blood frenzy and slew many crew but was ultimately overwhelmed by the vastness of the buccaneer crew and not their resolve to resist. The elves though were mortally imperilled from this encounter and it was clear they would play little further part, although not NO part!
The ensnared Arbiter of Pain was now tying up the main elven force all by itself. It was bombarded by all three main battle ships sustaining crippling damage as well as being set ablaze. Nevertheless it ploughed on like a great Hellfane in the throes of embattled death determined to take as many enemy as possible with it, aiming to ram The Soulbane. Yet again the craven elvish pirates - not up to engage even a weakened Arbiter of Pain - steered away preferring instead to use their guns to inflict the coup de grace along with their brethren on the barely functioning Butcher. This limping hulk seriously needed putting out of it’s misery……
The plucky and nimble Katuschan, had been badly damaged by fire from the Needlefangs and the Butcher, was despatched finally by the Gordrake. However the Angkor, Decimator and Caged Gun Worm were now too far from the guns of the main ships of the elven fleet to be stopped from linking up with the main fleet sent by Ironjawz. To rub Sea Salt into superating wounds the Caged Gun Worm, at immense peril to itself, despatched the injured Butcher to at least try and balance the scales after the tragic loss of The Arbiter and Infernox - brave heroic dwarves one and all - but all in pursuit of a tremendous dwarf victory!
The remaining Butcher was towards the West surrounded now by ghostly hulks. The vaunted Soulbane was steering a course of South-South West leaving it’s flimsy Needlefangs and Gordrake to fend for themselves. Despicable behaviour!
A rather Pyrrhic victory one might say.
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