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It's been a long time coming, but it almost perfectly coincided with the awarding of the Trophy to Lunzo, so I'll just take credit for awesome timing.
I tried to make the images as clear as possible, but for some of the labelling people might still have a bit of trouble figuring out what's what, so here are some glorious summaries for you.
On the Tomb Kings Side:
- SA = Skeleton Archers
- SW = Skeleton Warriors (With a Heirophant!)
On the Dwarven Side:
- T = Thunderers
- W = Warriors
On the Dark Elves Side:
- WE = Witch Elves
- CB = Crossbows
- C = Corsairs (With Moranoth, the Dreadlord General!)
- SE = Spear Elves (With Eriandara, Dark Sorceress!)
Without any further ado, I bring present to you:
The Battle for Gebirggschicksal
Toxic gases drifted lazily over the blasted surface of Gebirggschicksal, its jagged ravines withering ever so slightly under their touch. The cloud strayed to the south over the forces of Moranoth Lanthari, but the Druchii soldiers were careful to keep coughing to a minimum, since none were willing to risk invoking the wrath of the Sister Sorceresses, Eriandara and Illaniel.
The Cold Ones brayed in complaint, but the cloud soon lifted and flowed to the east where a Dwarven patrol hastily fortified their position to stand against the mustering armies. The hardy Dwarves barely noticed the gas, save for the Slayer, Bruni Crotchbiter, who did notice an uncomfortable burning sensation in his loins.
Regardless, the feeling soon passed as the cloud blew northward over the ranks of the proud skeletal soldiers of King Alkehesh, who stood tall even as the gas ate away at their bones.
As though losing interest, the toxic cloud drifted away, just as the first war-horn was blown.
The candle sputtered and died, as though unwilling to contest Moranoth's deepening malefic aura.
"You mean to tell me..." Moranoth began, tightening his grip on the wine goblet, "that we are betrayed?"
Footman Drawaidren stood at attention, carefully avoiding eye contact. He was the bearer of bad news, and bearers of bad news did not live long. Aelion had reported of the delays in finding the Warpstones on Van Dieman's Eiland. He had been fed to the Hydras. Hiryan had reported of the Lizardman resistance. He had been given to the Sorceresses. Now it was Drawaidren's turn to report, and he did not plan to be fed to the Cold Ones. He inwardly cursed Lieutenant Berlanuth for giving him this task. "Our scouts report that the Tomb King armies are marching on Gebirggschicksal, my lord. They assume the Tomb Kings have also realised the significance of the peak, and seek to capture it before -"
The goblet shattered, staining Moranoth's hand a deep crimson. "I did NOT come this far to be denied now!"
Drawaidren flinched, but did his best to hide it. He could still get out of this if he played his cards carefully. All he had to do was get Moranoth in a good mood. Simple, but hardly easy.
"My lord, if we beat them to the peak of the mountain, we will be able to use its power to repay their treachery a thousandfold."
Moranoth was nodding. Good. He was in with a shot. "Currently the Dwarves hold the peak, but it is unlikely that their feeble minds have even noticed the nexus of power there, much less be able to harness it against us. Taking the peak from them should be a pleasure, my lord." Moranoth hated Dwarves. Hopefully the suggestion of slaughtering them would improve his chances.
The general stood in thought for a moment.
"Rouse the camp. We march immediately."
Drawaidren saluted and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Drawaidren," Moranoth called after him.
Shit.
"Congratulations. You will be leading the charge."
Drawaidren saluted, inwardly cursing. He had come so close, only to be fed to the skeletons.
The first war-horn was blown. As one, the Dark Elf army marched forward. The cavalry, horse and cold one alike, surged forward to engage the flanks of the skeletal host. The chariots fired a warning shot at the dwarves to keep them at bay, even as Eriandara conjured forth dark winds which howled over the skeletal archers. Several archers crubled before the savage winds, but most held their ground while keeping a tight grasp on their bows.
A hail of arrowfire preceded the Druchii host, but the skeletons weathered the assault with ease.
War-horns blew from the Tomb King army, and the skeletal soldiers moved to consolidate their position. The giant scorpion let forth a terrifying screech and charged towards the Dark Riders, who knew better than to engage such a beast and retreated to the safety of their lines. However, the safety of those lines was put into question when they were drowned in arrows and fire from the Tomb King archers and Screaming Skull Catapults. Even as the Dark Elves raised their shields to endure the assault, the ground beneath the skeletal archers tore open, releasing a cloud of boiling acidic gas which devoured many of the hapless archers cought within.
Seeing the Druchii forces quickly closing the distance between them, one of the Heirophants took to the skies, soaring over his comrades in bones and landing behind the fearsome Ushabti.
With their foes' flanks exposed, the Dwarf scouts began their drunken carousing that doubled for a marching tune and rushed forth as quickly as their stunty legs would take them. The bolt throwers and thunderers opened fire, and one of the bolts crashed into a Cold One Chariot, destroying the wheel axels. Coming to a sudden halt, the chariot riders were flung forth from their carriage, landing directly before their Cold Ones. Seeing the dazed elves before them, the beasts' bloodlust overtook them. With a blood-curdling roar, the Cold Ones tore their Elven masters limb from limb. Their comrades ignored the bloody display and the harrowing screams.
It was nothing they had not seen before.
Spurred on by the scent of blood, the Cold Ones on the western flank ignored their Knights' commands and lunged forth to attack the nearby Carrion. The Corsairs roared in a frenzy and also charged. The carrion were unable to withstand the assault and were trampled into the dust, although once the Corsairs had regained their senses they found themselves in the middle of a field of craggy rubble.
To the west, the Hydra leapt upon the Tomb Scorpion, pinning it to the ground with its mighty talons as it tore into its carapace with its many mouths. Powerless to resist, the scorpion was left a broken body upon a broken land.
As the Dark Elf army pressed forward, the earth rumbled behind them, releasing noxious fumes. However, the elves had progressed far beyond this point, and they were not fazed. The Tomb Kings were not so fortunate, as the gas cloud on the northern front crept along their lines, destroying archer after archer.
King Alkehesh saw his forces begin to buckle beneath the assault, and set his empty eyes on the Hydra before him. Even if the mountain itself sought to defeat him, he would not give in so easily.
On his command, the skeletal horses charged forth as fire soared overhead from the caapults. The rocky ground made moving at such a speed treacherous, but King Alkehesh was no stranger to the chariot, and kept his footing with ease. As the chariots neared the Hydra, its five heads roared in defiance, only to be cut sort as King Alkehesh's chariot burst into glorious flame, crashing into the beast in an explosion of fire and blood. As the beast reeled, King Alkehesh gave it no respite. Lashing forth with his enchanted blade, he swiftly severed several of its heads as his chariots trampled the Hydra into the dust.
Not wanting to lose his momentum, King Alkehesh turned his chariots toward the Cold One Knights, when he heard a single piercing screech, full of pain and rage. King Alkehesh barely had time to react as the Hydra struck forth with its last head and grabbed him in its vice-like jaws. He tried desperately to escape, but with one sickening crunch, the Hydra broke his spine. It then flung him into his chariot, smashing it to splinters and sending the feebly twitching form of King Alkehesh tumbling across the rugged mountain surface.
When he finally came to rest, King Alkehesh struggled to rise, but all he could manage was to slowly turn is head to face the battle. The Hydra had broken his body, but what he saw now broke his spirit.
The caustic gas was pouring over his Warriors, reducing their ranks before they even met the enemy. The Dark Riders moved to support the crippled Hydra even as the Cold One Knights charged up the side of the hill and began to lay waste to the Screaming Skull Catapults.
The elven spearmen crashed through the remaining archers and Moranoth's Corsairs struggled through the debris field to support them. The chariots tried to hold their ground, but they no longer had the advantage. Beset by foul magics which reduced their training to dust, the chariots were crushed by the Hydra's savage attacks. So confident were the Dark Elves that Illaniel recklessly conjured a powerful spell, but could not keep control of it as the wild energies tore at her very mind.
Finally, the acidic cloud drifted away from the Tomb King host, but the damage was done. The Dark Riders had brazenly followed up their charge into the Ushabti, but the giants were not impressed and tore the riders asunder.
Tomb Swarms crawled forward to engage the spearmen, but the Elves had trained against Lizard swarms for a long time and were easily able to avoid their attacks. What was a bad situation for the Tomb Kings got worse as the Cold One Knights broke through the final catapults and overran directly into the flank of the Skeletal Warriors, who were hard pressed to defend against this many fronts of attack.
The Horsemen at the rear saw that they were the only units in a position to launch a counter-offensive. Their Heirophant thought quickly about what he could do to turn the tide, and his answer came as a Dwarven Bolt to the head, which crashed through the horsemen, claiming half their number including the Heirophant.
The remaining Cold One Chariot finally reached the enemy lines and charged into the Tomb Swarmes, carving a path through the creatures. Outnumbered and overpowered, the Skeletal Warriors did not last much longer.
The Ushabti moved forward to claim vengeance against the Hydra, but the wounded beast limped back behind the coveer of the Witch Elves, who regarded the Ushabti with wild eyes.
Throwing caution to the wind, the remaining two Horsemen charged into the rear of the Cold One Knights, but their valiant charge ended only in their own destruction.
The dwarves, still running forth to try to beat on the Elves, were running somewhat short of breath, but continued their march nevertheless, even if they did grumble slightly about cowardly elves, and how they should stand and fight like real men.
The Witch Elves screeched their shrill battle-cry as they leapt upon the Ushabti, their wicked blades rending bone and leaving only scattered fragments in their wake.
The rest of the Dark Elf army formed to face the Dwarven threat, with the exception of the Cold One Chariot, which moved over to sniff the Knights' mounts.
The flying Heirophant was the only survivor, but he was not ready to flee. He soared over the Witch Elves and Hydra, launching a volley of magical projectiles, all of which dissipated ineffectually on the Hydra's thick hide.
The Druchii forces opened fire on the Dwarven Warriors and Bruni, but they were too sturdy and nimble and laughed off the attempts of the Dark Elves to stop them.
The Dwarves bellowed their mighty cry and charged forth to meet their fates...
After the dust had settled, Moranoth found the broken form of King Alkehesh upon the battlefield, barely clinging to unlife. He looked down at him in disgust.
"Pathetic. You sought to betray us, and yet this is all your mighty army can do? I should have taken my time getting here. Perhaps if you possessed the power of the mountain, defeating you might have been an actual challenge."
"Fool," King Alkehesh's spectral voice rasped. "King Settra will bring the might of his armies upon you and seize this place! Your victory here means nothing!"
Moranoth grinned viciously. "Enjoy your empty threats, Tomb King. This island is ours, and your time on it," Moranoth raised his blade, "is over." | 
The Conquest of Mehetia: Finale
Ash: Stupid ItP DE army 
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GrubLord: That's "Immune to Panic Dark Elf Army", for those readers who don't speak Ash.
teh_saq: Hope ŧhe game was as fün ŧo pŀaÿ as ŧo read aboüŧ. Thoügh ŧhe Dwarves ŀasŧed müch ŀonger ŧhan I ŧhoüghŧ ŧheÿ woüŀd...
Syfro: To be fair, it was pretty hard to have the units be large enough to be properly identifiable and all not overlap as they moved around and got smooshed in melee, so often the units are arranged in a "best guess" position... but it does the job alright.
Lunzo: Great report Syfro. Sorry about the delayed comment but I only read it today. I like how you wrote entirely in narrative instead of some battle reports which are all rules e.g. "Turn 1 - Lunzo rolled for a stupidity check and rolled 8".
RJorb: A very enjoyable recount there, Syfro. Well told.
