Endgame (The last one, I promise! Well done if you made it this far - give yourself a pat on the back)
At the knotted maul…
The remnants of the Naggaroth expeditionary party leap onto the saddles of the proud Brettonians, whilst other cut horse legs and flanks. In an amazing turnaround they manage to drop two of Brettonia’s finest… And they rout… And what’s more the sight of them fleeing causes their men-at-arms to run away with them.
Brettonia – “Cecil! Pierre! Vous aves fallen! Mon Couer! Alors! Quelle heure et il? Ah! Mon supper! I Must be elsewhere! Allez away mes hommes! Oui, tu aussi heavy swords! On y va!”
Woodelfia – “Are they running away over there? We’ll remind them of that forever!”
Naggaroth – “Let’s parlez! Oh… you’re running away? Well… phew, that was close”
At the hill…
The Crossbows are annihilated as the witch elves shriek and lead an uphill charge toward les Baasterdz. They are all slain, bar two who decide to run. Scarlocs mop up the rest of the mess.
Brettonia – “Oui! Just kill’em”
Woodelfia – “None shall live!”
Naggaroth – “Hmmm. That was silly”
Da Result…
The Brettonians may have some serious words with their nobility. Les Basterdz fancy some new swish titles and bling might be coming their way. The heavies have had enough and start exploring the price of warhorses…
Scarloc’s elves retire to their woods. Still watching, Still waiting.
Although having effectively ‘lost’, Mengil is free from the shackles of his Imperial kin. His merry band aim to explore the land, recruiting more ne’er do wells and honing their ‘being a nuisance’ skills.
(Fin – for now... Phew!)