This battle Report is a Story Battle Report written by my - unfortunately before I got the hang of Flash, so no maps.

Characters –
Prince Toriel Dawnstar – Cavalry Commander
Asandir – High Elf Hero, commander of Toriels regiment of Swordmasters
Cheykar – High Elf Champion – Rides with Toriel in the Dragonprinces
Deythel – High Elf Mage
A lot of orcs.

Toriel stood in his tent, pondering over the maps of the region. His scouts reported a large orc army in the area. Toriel knew exactly where they were – an orc horde like this did not try to hide. Nor could they. The smell combined with the constant beating of drums made it easy to pin-point their location.
Toriel had his army assembled and ready for the attack. Toriel looked at Asandir, who sat on the floor, silent in some sort of meditation, with his great elven blade across his lap. Toriel knew his old friend, who had studied with the sages in the White Tower, well. He had limited magical abilites and was in contact with Deythel, an elven mage supposed to join Toriel’s forces.
Cheykar, a young noble entered the tent, dressed in the ornate battle armor of the Dragon Princes. He looked as all young noble from Caledor – handsome and arrogant.
’I cannot understand the morale of the spearmen. They sit around the campfire talking, playing their instruments and reciting lyrics. They should be preparing their armor and equipment.’ said the young noble.
Toriel sighed before giving his reply. The ignorance of this young noble was impressive. But Toriel had to treat him with respect, his family had powerful friends in Ulthuan. ’They are not elite soldiers like you and your fellow Princes; rather citizens. Poets and musicians, artists and farmers.’
Cheykar laughed. ’As always, you speak the truth, Dawnstar – Of a matter more important….’
’Yes?’ Inquired Toriel.
’I saw the mage coming. He did not look happy’
Just as Cheykar completed the sentence, Deythel stepped into the tent, bowing slightly before Toriel. Asandir stood up, and joined the three others, both hands leaning on the hilt of his sword.
’My eyes see with joy, Deythel, you are welcome in my tent’ Toriel said, keeping the conversation formal. He was not happy to see Deythel. Deythel was a power-hungering aristocrat, seeing every situation as a potential to further his own ends. But he was a competent mage – no question about that.
Deythel looked cooly at the trio and spoke ’My eyes see with joy too, Dawnstar. May the light of Isha always shine on you. I have heard of your achievements and you serve the Court well. I come bearing news’.
He turned to the Swordmaster ’Asandir – though our minds have crossed my eyes see with joy’.
Finally he turned to Cheykar ’Cheykar – my eyes see with joy – and I bring regards from your family’.
Now that the formalities were overwith, Toriel asked ’Deythel – what news do you bring from Ulthuan and the Court?’
’I am to take control of this army and use it to destroy a large orc force nearby. My magical divinations has revealed the location of the greenskin force’.
Toriel laughed. ’My scouts have known their location for many days and nights now. I trust the eyes of the Reaver knights as much as magical divinations’.
Deythel did not look happy. ’This document from the Court demands that you turn the leadership of the army over to me’.
Toriel had a hard time keeping his composure. The mage knew nothing about managing an army, but a lot about court intrigue it would seem.
Toriel unfolded the document. He did not doubt that it was real – Deythel would not risk his position being caught in forgery. Sure enough. It was from the Court. It instructed Deythel in taking command of the army that Toriel and Asandir had built up and crush the Orcs.
’Very well….Your army awaits your inspection, my commander’ Toriel made no attempt to hide his sarcasm. Best get this over with. After the mage departed, he would be in charge again.


Prince Toriel Dawnstar glanced across the battlefield. On the other side, flanked by a large patch of trees were the biggest orc horde he had ever seen. Ranks upon ranks of greenskin were assembled, not in an orderly fashion like his own army, but a big huddle. Still, it was easy to see where one unit started and another stopped – because most of them were making rude gestures towards each other.
Their center was infantry – big blocks of ugly orcs, brandishing huge rusty weapons. To the right, were a large throng of goblins, and to the left were their cavalry, consisting of large orcs on wild boars and diminuative forms on big wolves. ’Goblins’ Toriel thought. As evil as the orcs but with a lot more brain. Behind the cavalry, on a small hill were all sorts of weird-looking warmachines. He saw several big orcs bossing the small goblins around, busy loading the cruel stone throwers and bolt throwers. To the right on the hill, some particularly crazy-looking goblins were actually preparing a big catapult. The high elf could not see what ammunition they were going to use – such a construction could not launch rocks…

The prince overlooked his own army. It was a strong assembly of noble high elves, splendid-looking in their gold and silver army and their orange tunics. To his right, facing the goblins were the high elf cavalry, except Toriel’s own guard of Dragon Princes. Large regiments of Silverhelms, flanked by the fast Reaver knights, lightly mounted horse-archers who could easily outrun all other creatures in the Old World.
In the high elf center stood the infantry – big blocks of spearmen, rank upon rank of silver warriors, their spears pointing to the skies as they stood ready. They were flanked by the elite Swordmasters, wielding elven greatswords. In the front rank stood Asandir – Toriels close friend and brother in everything but blood. He lifted his great sword in salute, and though he could not see his face, he knew well the concentrated and arrogant expression Asandir always had prior to battle.
On the left flank was Toriel’s own guard of Dragonprinces – each a noble mounted on a magnificent-looking steed, splendid in their arcane wrought dragon-armor. Cheykar was on Toriel’s left, eager to prove his worth. He grinned at Toriel. Cheykars helmet glowed with a magical light, and Toriel knew it to be heavily enchanted. Left of the Dragonprinces were the archers – several ranks of keen-eyed bowmen. They were led by the mage, Deythel, wielding a great rune-encrusted staff that seemed to glow with an inner light.

Toriel drew his golden sword and raised it. All around him, the high elf army gave a rousing cheer and prepared the advance. Deythel did not look happy. The orc horde returned the cheer with a large growl, but the elves had siezed the initiative.
On the right flank, the Silverhelms advance, the Reaver knights advancing in front of them with their bows ready. Firing a their bows with great agility on their running horses, they dropped a few goblins. The high elf center advanced slowly, the ranks of spearmen moving in perfect unison, with the gleaming swords of the swordmasters leading the way. Toriel and the Dragonprinces held steady, steeds impatiently stomping the ground. Toriel placed his hand on the neck of his mount, easing it. The archers opened fire at the wolf-riding goblins. Even though the range was long, more arrows than not hit the goblins, felling several. A particular large goblin riding a particular large wolf steadied his troops. Deythel stepped forward from the archers and began tracing an arcane symbol in the air. His hands moved with amazing dexterity, and soon his fingers were followed by a trace of orange fire, growing stronger with every movement. Deythel gave a great shout, and Toriel heard a great roar of flame, as an elemental of pure fire sped towards the orc boar riders, smashing into them and formed again in the middle of the unit, shooting flames and incenerating several of the wild creatures. The leader of the boars, a very large orc directed his boar towards the elemental, his great axe cleaving through the unnatural being, dissipating it.
The big orc moved again towards the front of his regiment and pointed a big clawlike finger at the high elves. The orcs all screamed ’WAAAGH’ and started running like mad-men towards the elven line. As they came nearer, Toriel noticed that they were looking particularly savage, even for orcs. And the goblins to Toriels right all had tatoos and feathers. In front of them scuttled several large spiders, each carrying a big goblin. The orc boar riders advanced as quickly as possible, working themselves into a frenzy. To their right, the wolf-riding goblins zoomed towards the archers, being almost as fast as elven steeds. A green glow suddenly appeared around one of the orcs in the boar-riding regiment – ’Greenskin Magic’ Deythel shouted. The glow got stronger and stronger before suddenly appearing over Toriel’s regiment, taking the shape of a giant green foot. Toriel and the princes stared up at it, strangely transfixed by the orcish magic. As the foot began its descent, gaining momentum quickly, Toriel heard the familiar sound of Deythel chanting – and a shield of blue magic formed a half-sphere around the princes. For a long moment, the two magical forces struggled, untill finally, the orcish magic disippated. Toriel could hear Cheikar breathe a sigh of relief. The orcish war-machines started firing, one of the contraptions instantly exploding in a blur of wood, stone and goblin. The orc bullies on the hill started shouting. One big rock fell just in front of the swordmasters, while the spearmen were hit by something. Several of the spearmen fell in a big mess of cracked spears, dented armor and … goblin? Obviously, a goblin had been launched by one of the contraptions on the hill and had hit the spearmen with great force.
Toriel rode forward, his golden sword indicating a charge towards the boar-riders. In the front rank of the boars were a very large orc and the strangely-looking orc that had thrown spells at the Dragonprinces. The Princes gave a great shout and followed their general, their lances lowered. The orcs looked defiantly, preparing their weapons. On the elven right flank, the Reaver knights moved forward to the flank of the forest goblins while the silverhelm moved to position themselves to the front. Soon they would charge the goblins from all sides. The spearmen marched forward at great pace towards the orcs, their spears lowered to recieve the inevitable charge. The archers again opened fire at the goblins on wolves. They were now so close that the skilled bowmen could hardly miss. The entire front rank including the big goblin were mown down and the wolfriders struggled to keep the wolves from running. The big orc among the boars bellowed and they stood firm. Deythel again started tracing fiery lines in the air, but the orc shaman started shaking some weird totem and the magic was stopped. Deythel cursed and drew on his magical powers again, this time creating a small shimmering grey portal in the air. As he stepped through it, his body became insubstantial, like a ghost. His transparent form stepped back among the archers, who watched the wolf-goblins wearily.
Toriel and the dragonprinces struck the orc boar regiment like a thunderbolt. Toriel aimed straight for the shaman, and his golden sword struck faster than the eye could see, felling the creature before it could even react, green blood spilling from several wounds. As it hit the ground, Toriel continued his assault on the boar the shaman were riding, killling it too. As Toriel looked up, he saw that several other riders had been taken from their boars by the impact of the lances, but the big orc still stood, locked in combat with Cheykar. It easily deflected his lance and began pummeling Cheykar with a flurry of blows from it’s great axe. The magic of the crude runes carved of the axe made it strike quickly, and the fact that Cheykar was mounted made it impossible to dodge the blows. Cheykar tried to parry as best as the could, but several powerful blows left his guard down. As the orc struck a blow that should have taken the head of Cheykar, his helmet glowed and the axe was stopped. It looked as if the orcs formation would break, but the big orc bellowed again, and the orcs held. But it seemed their will to fight had been broken a bit, and they no longer attacked with the frenzied blows they had before.
To the right of the combat, a big block of orcs screaming ’WAAAGH’ as they slammed into the spearmen that had now taken a defensive stand, spears bristling. To the far right, a group of spider-riding goblins charged into the Silverhelms, who drew their swords to defend themselves. To the left of the Dragonprinces, the goblin wolf riders lowered their spears and sped towards the archers. The archers drew their bows back and waited until the very last moment opened fire. Goblins and wolves tumbled forward, the goblins clutching big sticks that had suddenly sprouted in their chests. The casualties were horrendous and the few remaining broke and ran for the hills. The archers gave a rousing cheer and Deythel emerged again from the etheral world, a smile on his face.
Behind the orcs locked in combat with the spearmen, several others moved forward. One now threatened the flank of Toriels Dragonprinces, another waited behind the engaged orcs. The goblins on the far right turned to face the reaver knights, jeering and insulting them. The war machines on the hill fired again. All targetting the swordmasters, but none of the shots hit. Asandir looked up from his fellow swordmasters to the skies and saw a winged goblin with a spiked helmet flapping franctically to reach the swordmasters, but to no avail.
The spider riders attacking the Silverhelms struggled to hit their well-armed opponent. One spider jumped into the face of a silverhelm and injected venemous hooks into his exposed flesh. A few seconds later, he lay spasming on the ground, with the spider already devouring him. The rest of the spiders fared less well and the silverhelms struck back, cutting legs off spiders and arms off goblins. The rest of the spiders scuttled away, leaving the silverhelms free to engage the now-exposed flank of the forest goblins facing the reaver knights.
Toriel saw that Cheykar was in big trouble against the powerful orc, and directed his steed towards the great orc. He issued a challenge in the ancient tongue of the elves, knowing that the orc could not understand him. But the orc looked at him with a great hatred in his eye and urges his boar towards the elven general. The whole world seemed to disappear around Toriel – it was only him and the big orc now. Toriel struck first, his golden blade hitting the orc repeatedly, dancing around the great orc, attacking him from every possible angle. The orc deflected many of the blows, but several hit their mark. Defence against the Dawnstar’s leaping gold was futile. The orc started bleeding from many wounds, several of them deep enough to fell an ordinary orc. But this one remained on his boar. In a brief pause in the flurry of golden attacks, the orc struck back. As his axe came near Toriel, the runes engraved lost their light, and the axe became heavy in the arms of the great orc. A tiny talisman around Toriel’s neck glowered with trapped runic light, and the orc growled in anger. Still, the axe powered by the great orc’s muscular frame crashed through Toriel’s shield and wounded him. And so, they fought on.
The orcs charging the spearmen had worked themselves into a frenzy, leaping over the lowered spears, several of the orcs being scewered on the way. Those that made it though the porcupine of spears smashed the elves with crude axes and clubs, elven blood spilling as the frenzied attacks hit home. One large orc cut several spearmen down, including the spearmen commander. The elven formation was shaking, not designed to meet such a frenzied attack with each individual warrior holding no regard for his own life.
Toriel heard a horn blowing from the direction of the spearmen, expecting the sound of retreat. But it was not. It was the silvery horn of the swordmasters joined the combat, attacking the flank of the frenzied orcs. Toriel briefly saw Asandirs purple plume leading the swordmasters, and he could imagine their characteristic attacking position. It was designed to fool the opponent; as they raised their guard the swordmasters would reverse the grip on their swords and strike low with a speed that seemed impossible with great weapons.
To the far right, Toriel heard the horns of the Silverhelms and Reaver Knights as they crashed into the forest goblins.
The archers to the left advanced towards the hill with all the warmachines, firing shots as they went. They killed a couple of orcs, and Deythel stepped forward again, and sent another fire elemental crashing into one of the warmachines, killing the crew and destroying the warmachine in the proces.
Toriel knew that the battle would be decided now.
To the left, the combined charge of the Silverhelms in the flank and Reaver knights in the front of the forest goblins mowed down all goblins that held, quickly turning the combat into a chase. The goblin had no chance of escaping the swift elven steeds, and the Silverhelms crashed into the orcs waiting behind the orcs engaged with the spearmen. The reaver knights pursued the remaining goblins and killed them all. The leader of the Reaver knights picked up the fallen goblin standard in an amazing display of horseback agility and snapped it like a twig.
The big orc killing spearmen heard Asandir’s challenging battlecry and pushed through friend and foe towards the elven hero. He grinned evilly, glimpses under his tattered leather showed a glow of metal. Enchanted metal. Asandir leapt at the orc, his great sword connecting several times with the body of the orc. All his blows were absorbed by the enchanted armor. As the orc lifted his axe to kill Asandir, the elf struck one last time, this time at the orc’s head. In what seemed to be an impossible angle, the elf took the head off the orc in one clean strike. The orc’s body fell to it’s knees before toppling over, green blood gushing from the neck. The rest of the swordmasters had already struck, killing all orcs before them in a display of elven swordsmanship.
The spearmen had taken heart from the appearance of the swordmasters and closed the ranks. Their sharp spears proved fatal for several orcs. A few orcs were left to strike, but they broke and ran. The victorious elves ran after them, the swordmasters crashing into the rear of the orc unit facing Toriel’s Dragonprinces, the Spearmen hitting the flank of the orc unit now engaged with the silverhelms.
Toriel and the Orc Warlord urged their steeds forward again. Again, Toriel struck first with lightning speed, his sword worked its way towards the orc’s head, wounding and gashing him. Finally the golden sword gleamed, and found the heart of the orc, through his ragged armor. Around him, the Dragonprinces redoubled their efforts and killed several more orcs with their swords – the orc formation broke and ran with the Dragonprinces on their tails. Cheykar had hacked down their standard bearer and taken the banner. It would be burned later.
The rest of the war-machine crew lost heart, seeing their great Warlord die and staring down the fearsome Dragonprinces, combined with the fearsome attack of the fiery elemental, they abandoned their machines and ran.
Toriel knew victory were his – he looked at the few remaining orcs and saw the Silverhelms killing almost the entire front rank of the orc unit they had engaged, while the spearmen pushed from the side. The orc had no chance of holding such an assault and broke.
The final engagement were the swordmasters attacking the rear of the final orc regiment. No formation in the Old World can stand up to the swordmasters, especially when attacking from the rear. Asandir killed several orcs, the rest of the swordmasters did the same. The orcs broke, but were run down. Asandir picked up their standard and gave Toriel a wave.
The orcs had been destroyed.


Toriel stood in the tent, still pondering the maps. They had crushed the orcs with few casualties, but he thought there were more orcs in the area. One of the citizen elves was a healer and had tended to his wounds. Deythel entered the tent with an excited look on his face.
’What a great victory, Dawnstar. In the court, I was warned that my inexperience as a commander would prove fatal, but it has not. I see new possibility that old eyes perhaps not see. I gamble that even you would never have thought of making the reaver knights move to the flank of those goblins’.
’No’ said the tired Prince ’Attacking in the flank is a new tactic. I will have to remember it next time I am on the field of battle’. Sarcasm was dripping from his voice, and he practically spat out the last words.
That was lost on Deythel, obviously still very pleased with himself. ’Don’t worry, Dawnstar – Maybe I will stick around and you will not have to worry about coming up with such brilliant tactics’.
Toriel gave a slight groan ’Oh Isha….this should be good….’