Edge of the Abyss

The Rangers had hidden for days, watching the evil Necromancer raise his foul legion. They waited, and waited, and waited for the rest of the Dwarf army led by King Dvorin to arrive.

"We're running low on Ale!" exclaimed one Ranger, eager to attack the foul Undead. The Ranger Captain, Gimnar, snapped back,

"We've still got one barrel left, if we run out completely, then we attack, until then we hold our position and wait for our King's army, got it?"

The Ranger went to pour himself another tankard of ale, but as he did, the ground began to shake; in the distance the Dwarf King Dvorin and is Ironclad were marching into position, accompanied by Stone Priests whom were frantically using magic to push a dozen or more Earth Elementals towards the battlefield.

The Rangers pulled out their crossbows just as the engineers were moving the artillery into position, and took aim at the Undead battle line, which was making it's way towards the Dwarfs. Gimnar gave the order:

"Rangers... Take Aim.... Fire!"

Bandages flew through the air as the Mummies were filled with crossbow bolts, yet the mummies slowly made their way towards the Dwarf lines, "Fire again" came the order, this time, the Organ Gun was in range, and the mummies finally collapsed under the sheer weight of fire imposed upon them.

Whilst the Rangers had the initial ambushers advantage, they themselves were soon to be ambushed: Wraiths attacked from every angle, and an ominous shadow passed over the ensuring melee, the Vampire on his twisted and mean spirited undead dragon was overhead.

Meanwhile the Earth Elementals had begun to engage the Revenant horde in the centre of the battlefield, whilst King Dvorin and his Ironclad took up a defensive position against a Werewolf horde. Soul Reaver cavalry began to advance and it looked as though the Dwarf army could be in serious difficulty.

Still the Rangers held firm, their great hammers clashing with the scythes wielded by the Undead Wraiths in a maelstrom of violence. Suddenly, a huge crash was heard;

"NOOOOOO!" exclaimed one Dwarf Ranger, as he watched their one remaining barrel of ale topple over in the midst of melee, slamming to the floor and its contents gushing across the ground. Before long the remaining Rangers, including Gimnar had realised what had happened and anger became etched across their faces, from the tops of their foreheads to the tips of their beards: spilling of ale would not be tolerated and the Rangers fought with renewed vigour, destroying the Wraiths with hammer blow after hammer blow.

The main battle, however, looked to be going in favour of the undead, as they pressed on whilst the dragon flew across the Dwarf lines towards Dvorin and his Ironclad, the necromancers evil magic assisting the Revenants in their battle with the Earth Elementals, but then, from out of nowhere, the Berserker Brock Riders arrived, slamming into the Revenant's front lines, saving the Elementals from
the undead horde.

King Dvorin realised drastic action would need to be taken to push back the undead horde, and equipped his Wings of the Honeymaze to assault the Soul Reaver cavalry, hopefully this would stall them long enough and enable the Dwarf army to gain the upper hand.

The Rangers, still fuelled with rage in the absence of ale, made their way towards the main battle, and were able to surround the Revenants, charging them in the rear and returning them to where they belong: the afterlife.

The battle had turned in the Dwarfs favour, yet the shadow of the dragon still loomed large over the battlefield. The Stone Priests started to surge the Elementals towards the Soul Reavers in an attempt to rescue their King, and the Ironclad braced themselves behind their defensive position to receive the charge from Werewolves.

The charge came, and the Dragon crashed through the side of the Ironclad horde, causing many Dwarven casualties in the process, however the horde held firm, and provided the Brock Riders and Elementals the opportunity to attack the Dragon and Werewolves in the rear. The badgers tore the Werewolves to shreds and the Elementals crushed the Dragon under the weight of their stone limbs.

But what of King Dvorin?

The Soul Reavers were in the forest, combating more Elementals, but Dvorin was nowhere to be seen.

The rest of the Dwarf army rushed towards the melee, and through sheer weight of numbers, were able to finish off what remained of the Undead army, but still, King Dvorin was nowhere to be seen.

Distraught, the Dwarfs searched across the battlefield for their King once the fighting had stopped. They had won the battle, but could they win the war without their King?

Some hours passed and night fell, the Dwarfs reluctantly gave up the search and returned to the Rangers camp.

Some more hours passed, and a limping figure was seen approaching the camp in the flickering lights of the fire. The Rangers drew their crossbows, perhaps the undead were back again?

"Hold your fire", Gimnar ordered the Rangers, as they allowed the figure to approach ever closer, and as it became fully visible in the light of the camp fire, the anger and distress on Dwarven faces turned to relief: their King had returned. His armour was battered, his skin was bruised and his beard was bloody, but he had survived, somehow.

Clearly in agony from the wounds he had suffered at the hands of the Soul Reavers; King Dvorin hobbled towards the Ranger Captain, Gimnar.

"Captain Gimnar," Dvorin said gruffly, summoning his remaining strength, "You'd better have a barrel of ale left, I'm thirsty."