Bonekrunk Stonespitter licked his lips. His tribe were used to krumping tribes of nomadic humans in the dustlands of their home. This looked to be an altogether tougher prospect.
"Maybe give this one a miss, boss?" asked Grunt, the standard bearer of his Big 'Uns.
"Yer cowardly, git!" Bonekrunk spat back, adding a tap with his axe for good measure. "Dey is nuffik but a load of pansy imps! And we ain't missing out on that stunty bonanza!"
The lure of Dwarven treasure had brought Bonekrunk's Waaagh! from their southern home. They had yet to discover the entrances to the underground caves, and he wasn't about to let a host of unholy warp-spawned creatures stand in his way.
The daemons surged forward with unnatural speed, crossing half the battlefield in a single sweep. The two savage orc mobs champed as their battle lust took hold, but Bonekrunk held them in check, edging away from the enemy as the boar chariot trundled forward up the flank. Next to the war machine came Busta, da Big Green, grinning as the prospect of carnage and barely flinching as a skull-shaped cannonball ricocheted off his forehead.
"Cunning finking, innit?" Bonekrunk nodded at Ramgut, over in the other mob of orcs, pleased with his canny manoeuvres. His shaman clearly agreed, and called upon the power of Gork to aid in their deployment. A massive green hand appeared from nowhere, dragging the shaman and his orcs across to the flank, directly opposite the flanking juggernauts.
Directly opposite the charging juggernauts... Bonekrunk wondered if the shaman had really thought out that spell carefully. Then he had to turn his attention to more pressing concerns, such as the horde of daemons bearing down on him.
"Everyone..." he raised his club to summon all his forces, then realised that he was missing a giant. Busta had dropped to the ground after the giant had caught another cannonball from the daemon machine. "Everyone... wot's left," he corrected. "Charge!"
The Big 'Uns leapt down the slopes of the hill, falling over themselves to get stuck in. Behind them, the chariot crashed into the rear of the horde. Bonekrunk found himself face-to-face with the daemon's leader, evident by the evil black blades that pricked at him with lethal accuracy.
The Savage Warboss raised himself to strike, then found that one of the blades had found their way into his throat. He barely had time to mumble, "Not bloody fair..." before falling to the earth.
***
The Savage Big 'Uns fought back hard, cutting down swathes of daemons to avenge their warboss, but there seemed to be no end to the red monsters and the horde held firm.
On the far flank, the Bloodcrushers pounded into Da Brave 'Arts, stamping the and their shaman into the dust until the savage orcs decided that their name wasn't really worth living up to and fled the field. The juggernauts swung around and smashed into the flank of the Big 'Uns, tearing down what resistance was left. The orcs also turned to flee, and were run down by the monster steeds.
At the rear of the action, the chariot also pivoted quickly on the spot and scooted away from the remaining Bloodletters. It briefly rallied, before the horde charged in once again and made an end of it.
***
The dust settled over the field. The daemons moved on, searching for fresh blood. Bonekrunk picked himself up, plucking the blade from his throat.
"Right lads," he shouted at the scattered lads, cautiously returning to the field. "We'll call that one a praktice. Someone pick up Busta and get some spare wheels for da chariot."
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