Tuesday, January 10, 2012

A Dwarf's Tale, Ch 2: Dire Maneuvers

[As occurred in Year 3 Turn 1.]

Thunk..slap..thunk..slap..thunk..slap.

As the reassuring gait of the admiral approached, the general furore in Fleet HQ quieted. Admiral Storrisson entered carrying the reports. Gyrocopters had returned from their various scouting sorties, and the news was not good.

"Gah! Jus' hau did those cretinus ovargroan Ogurs cawble tahgethar anough material fur too separah' fleets oh this SIZE?", he grumbled.
"Dammit. We mus' dehfend Direbogs, if tha Ogurkin land armies, all oor eff'rt last year twill be for nowt."

With that amount at their disposal, the Ogre's would surely land large armies on the shores of the Burning Isle again within the year. Not good. A year was definitely not enough time to construct adequate land defences and entrench in Direbogs.

In addition, gyrocopter scouts had encountered difficulty to the north in the Kazad Thrund region. Garbled reports of a giant lightning storm, twisters and clouds of indescribable colours shaped like the gaping maw of a giant beast.

'Ye keep lookin' at me like that laddie,
an' I'll show yeh mah bahd eye.' - Admiral Storrisson.
Three out of four in gyro flight group Karnak had been lost when attempting to pass through the storm, the remaining gyro had been forced back south. The north eastern peninsulas of the Burning Isle would be impassable to the other Dwarven fleets in the north. There would be no reinforcements coming. Storrisson's fleet was on it's own.

He sat back and lit a pipe as the various ships captain's argued amongst themselves.  As he saw it there were only two options. Stay and fight the Ogre's in their greater numbers when they arrive, or attack early and catch an ogre fleet on it's own. Even the odds.

'Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast!' -
Ace Rimmersson, Dwarf Gyro-pilot
.
The fleet captains might not like it, but they knew their duty to kin and hold. Storrisson smiled. Dying in defence of his clan. He would finally find his honourable doom.

THUUUUUUMCRACK.

What the...?
"We're under attack. They launched early. We're outnumbered...", adrenaline fed thoughts flew through Storrisson's head.

He rushed to the bridge shouting orders as he went:
Thunk-slap-
"Ironclads fire at will!"
Thunk-slap-
"Gyro the gyrocopters!"
Thunk-slap-
"Submerse the submersibles!"

He smiled. Just because his doom had found him, didn't mean he'd die easy.

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