Battle of Charnel Valley

Primary to victory in combat is positioning. If you fail to position correctly nothing else matters. Speed, power, precision, all of these essential attributes in truth only broaden the possible positions from which victory can be achieved.

Positioning is why my bois and I are mounted up in the shadow of a hill behind some frames with shrubbery tied to them, creating a plantlike screen wall between my forces and Talion's. I'd taken this position almost as soon as the undead ranger's army began their march, having determined their route with simple deduction.

Of the three possible routes between Talion's rally point and my new fort, one route would take him through swampy wetlands, delaying his arrival by entire days and defeating the surprise effect of him choosing to beef with me rather the the region's established overlord. The other route would take him in a wide arc leaving his forces very venerable to Ratbag and Ranger sallying out to fight them. The only feasible route, the one we now wait on, is the most direct path. The one with the least amount of swamp and jungle to slow things down. The least number of tertiary enemies to account for.

It is also hilly terrain, with a path carved out by a small creek that often floods during the rainy seasons, providing ample footing for a marching army.

Hilly terrain is also God given ambush territory. Not that Talion's army seemed to care much. Over four hundred more warriors than my own forces and the Gravewalker himself set to join them upon arrival at my fort, the blue team marched with high morale. Seemingly uncaring of the fact that their outriders never seemed to return from their scouting.

We let the vanguard pass us by, full of Ologs and the Uruk Captains and their heavily armed gangs. We waited until the soft belly of Talion's army came into view along the path, and then without a word, we rode. A full cavalry company in heavy armor with kite shields strapped to our upper arm wielding long lances with the other atop eight hundred pounds of pure muscle and teeth also armored.

The blues didn't have near enough pikemen to check a heavy cavalry charge, and our lances out ranged the common spears they did have. Upon contact the center of Talion's army completely folded, hell I managed to get a three for one on my lance before dropping it and drawing my brutal cursed chopper, my companions drawing their falchions and we continued our brutal wheeling maneuver taking us through the heart of Talion's army and pushing towards the rear guard as we bled away momentum.

Even when the press of uruk bodies managed to slow us to a trot we didn't stop. The claws, fangs, and blades of my riders making quick work of the terrified opponents who'd just witnessed the fist on an angry god just plow through their comrades.

From the top of the hill, Hawkeye Bragga and his archer platoon fired down into the vanguard, preventing them from following our path of destruction to pincer us between them and the rearguard.

Realizing that they weren't catching up, Bruz the Chopper ordered the vanguard up the hill to counter our archer support. A costly choice but better than continuing to do nothing. Worse than sounding the retreat though.

As Bruz and his battered forces finally closed in on my archers, they simply fell back and were replaced by my heavy infantry, at the core over forty fully armored Olog Hai.

That was when Bruz knew he'd fucked up.

We set a pace to our slaughter that would have given Hannibal a stiffy after the battle of Cannae. Just over a thousand veteran soldiers in just under fifteen minutes. We could have fluffed our numbers with the hundreds of regular orcs we mowed down who were hauling supplies for the warfighting Uruks, but I just don't care about the levies.

"That was the sweetest victory I have ever tasted!" cried out Burzronk as we rode through the charnel house floor of this valley as my forces picked the bodies clean of valuables and my caragors feasted on the flesh of our fallen foes.

"It's going to be a whole lot sweeter with all this free grog they brought us!" Ur-Hakon the Hornblower called as he hefted a barrel in each arm.

"Drink deep, boys!" I commanded as we took our loot home, "This is the kind of victory that will cement the Enlightened Tribe in the history of Mordor!"

"Fluffy Towels!" they all shouted together, big smiles on every face.