(Based on a game with the Skull Pass Contents...enjoy)

The Battle of Blood Crag -

Falgrim slid down the scree slope, his warriors following behind with their bodies covered in dark chainmail, axes and shields bared and ready for the oncoming enemy. Behind him up on the slope Grundi heaved the cannon into place, tilting the barrel so it aimed across the low flat in front of them. Across to his left Thane Falgrim had positioned his Thunderers, the stout kin of his hold kneeling and aiming down their sights, checking the range. Even further to the left of the army he saw the familiar helmets and weapons of his miners led by the brave Gloin who even from this distance could be seen chugging on his clay pipe stuffed between folds of white beard. With his army arrayed across the small ridge Falgrim turned his attention across the small expanse to the enemy army, advancing at some pace towards them.
Ahead the goblins of the White Claw clan were rampaging down towards them with bristling spears. He could spy behind them a small gaggle of archers, pulling their bowstrings back. Falgrim watched as the cruel black tipped arrows flew into the sky and arched over their heads. At first he thought the goblins had missed, but then a bark of pain sounded from the ridge and looked on as Grundi pulled one of the engineers away from the cannon, an arrow stuck fast in his neck. Falgrim grumbled at the thought that the goblins across the pass had gotten first blood, he would remember that when the time came to put axe to flesh.
The entire goblin line advanced forwards, to the right their tamed spiders and their small riders were leaping between the stones towards the dwarf line, Gloin moving his miners to intercept them as they came on. He had to admit to himself that he did not think that his kin could hold against the poisonous fangs of their monsters, but he sent a prayer to the gods all the same.

Falgrim turned his attention back to the matter at hand and moved to the front of his small unit of warriors as the black robed and red-eyed menaces scampered towards his position. They were many in number, nigh on forty of the goblin scum were chattering and wailing, their champion howling madly as they came on. A crack and a boom behind him was the sign of early shots from the Thunderers. He watched the projectiles flash towards the oncoming regiment of goblins and the wail of pain was satisfying as three of their number were bowled down by those behind, dead and crumpled. Accompanying the thump of gunfire was a boom of cannon fire from Grundi’s cannon. The heavy missile thudded into the ground before the goblins and tore through them, killing another dozen or so of the blighters before they had time to reform the line. Falgrim allowed himself a smile as he heard the laughter of Grundi behind him up on the hill.
Everything seemed to be going well for his kin, but as he and his warriors braced for the charge of the still wailing goblins he saw the foreboding shadow of a troll lumber from behind a rocky outcrop. He was not the only one to notice the troll, hearing Grundi yell commands to wheel the cannon around, followed by a snap of rifles. The bullets did little but aggravate the blundering troll who roared and ripped a large dwarf cut stone from the ground, and roaring with anger hurled it across the battlefield. It did little, smashing against the ground before the Thunderers. Falgrim thought of wheeling the warriors round to deal with the troll, but at that moment an orange haired blur leapt from behind the Thunderers and roared across the battlefield.
The blur was Borank, a slayer of the deftest skill. Yes, he had shamed himself when he had left his kin to die, but now he was famed amongst Falgrim’s hold. He had slain trolls, giants and dragons and this troll would be little trouble. Borank leapt the stones and rubble and with his two axes high in the air he tore towards the troll. But he had bigger troubles to deal with. The goblins were closing in, a few spears thudding into the front rank. The spears bent and snapped, some sticking from their thick oaken shields, but no damage was suffered as the goblins slammed into them with enough force to break most units.
Falgrim lashed out, his axe cutting down a pair of goblins in an instant; his warriors did the same equalling his death toll. The goblins however were more numerous and with a savage look in its eyes the champion of the fiends hacked down one of his warriors in a blood thirst before delivering the same punishment to a second. A squint eyed musician banging a skin drum found himself before Falgrim and with a squeak of terror tried to run between its friends. Falgrim pursued the blasted greenskin, knocking aside a spear and smashing the skull of another goblin before hefting his axe and slamming it into the back of the running goblin. The goblins around the fallen musician panicked and the silent work of the dwarfs began to tell, hewing down more as they moved forwards.
The champion of the goblins caught Falgrim’s eye and a spear thrust towards his shield arm. He blocked it with a bash and yanked the curved weapon free from the goblins grip. The goblin resorted to trying to savage Falgrim with his clawed hands, leaping on top of him and trying to get within his helmet. With a grunt Falgrim punched the pitiful thing in the side of the head. Stunned it fell to the floor and was all too unaware of the axe that Falgrim finally slammed into its skull. With their champion gone the goblins began to loose their heart for battle and turned their tails to run, but Falgrim was not going to let that be the end of it.
“To me my kin!” he called, chasing forwards after the stumbling goblins “run them down and leave none alive!”
The dwarfs rallied behind their Thane and with a great crushing of goblin underfoot they ran down the greenskins with a vengeance born of generations of pain. The route was bloody and painful, not a single goblin was left twitching when Falgrim and his kin had finished their swings. Falgrim turned, looking to see how the battle was faring for the rest of his followers and dismay dawned on him as he watched the gigantic spiders of the goblins, oblivious to their champion’s demise, overrun and slaughter the miners. It would take the them many months to resupply their ranks now with hard working and well honed miners, and they could ill afford more causalities. Falgrim turned to his musician, a large horn resting on his shoulder.
“Signal the Thunderers, they must about face to take the enemy head on” he grunted, looking around for a new target for himself. He could trust the stalwart gunsmiths to do their work, and he had to keep in mind the pressing matter of the troll.
He spied for the gigantic creature and found it in the midst of a swirling melee with the slayer Borank. The deft slices of the broad axes in his meaty fists carving chunks from the beast’s stomach and limbs, but even as Borank hacked and slashed the flesh seemed to reform as if it had not been touched. With a heavy heart Falgrim watched as the troll sent a swift kick at Borank’s face, sending the slayer sprawling backwards. The kick would have been enough to bring down even a knight of the chaos gods, but Borank simply stood, cracked his neck and dived back towards the trolls roaring face.
Behind them he heard the crack of rifle fire and as his warriors moved to close on the goblin archers still taking pot shots from their hill he turned to witness almost half the number of spider rides fall to the ground, their mounts twitching and reeling in pain. Still, the spiders hit home and the Thunderers dropped their rifles, pulling small hatchets from their belts and readying shields. Falgrim knew his gunsmiths would do their best, and he hoped they would pull through. Just then another boom sounded and a cannon ball rocketed through the sky landing before the goblin archers and splattering three of them with its following bounce. The goblins, scared for their lives turned tail and ran even as Falgrim and his kin closed on them. They did not seem to be reforming and instead Falgrim turned his attention to the flank of the ominous troll.

Borank swung and missed, his axes cleaving at mid air as the troll, with some extraordinary skill dodged his sweeping attacks. In return the troll kicked hard once more, breaking Borank’s jaw with a crush of bone. Still the brave slayer fought on, hacking apart the troll’s leg with a cruel axe strike, but the wound reformed just as before. Borank frowned, and tried to wipe blood from his brow as it trickled down into his eyes. The troll sensed its opportunity and just as Borank cleared his vision the stone the beast was carrying crashed down on his skull. The world span for a moment as Borank teetered on his feet before a fist connected with his skull and he collapsed to the floor. The chortle of the troll was the only sound he heard as his vision turned black.

A moan of anguish filtered down the ranks of Falgrim’s warriors as they watched the slayer fall, but it seemed Grundi was on the case. A boom sounded again and a great black cannon ball slammed into the troll’s side. The arm hung limp from its blasted socket, but still the creature roared on, crushing the body of the slayer ignobly beneath its feet and racing towards the rear of the Thunderers. Falgrim’s mind raced, up on the slope the goblin archers had reformed but the troll was about to sweep his way through the rear of their gun line. His moment of hesitation was answered by a roar from the Thunderers. He watched as the champion ripped the goblin riders leaders head from its shoulders and threw it aside, his unit turning and retrieving their guns to fire on the troll. The crack of guns had not been suspected by the troll and it reeled and howled in pain as great welts grew on its chest and face from the many rounds. Sensing it would have its luck in fighting another day the troll turned tail and ran, but not before Falgrim and his warriors had their chance.
His warriors charged, leaping at the troll with shouts and curses of vengeance. Their axes hacked and hewed at its flesh and the troll fell to its knees in agony. Falgrim slammed his axe into the things spine, severing bone and nerves before climbing aboard its shoulders and with a sickening crunch drove the blade of his axe through the troll’s skull. A gurgle of pain and a fumbled swing were the troll’s response before it fell flat on the bloodied stone and moved no more.
The day seemed theirs as Falgrim stood and wiped sweat from his lips. The Thunderers raced past him and unleashed a volley into the archers who had again turned tail and ran. A few more hit the ground, smoking holes in their black tunics before the riflemen stopped their fire and stood still nearby. Up on the hill Grundi could be heard shouting to his crew while a dwarf with a backpack took out surgical tools to remove the arrow from one of his apprentices. Falgrim panted and removed his helmet, glad to be free of the choking closeness. The miners were all dead, Gloin too, his body being pulled from the mass of other dwarfs by a stout pair of Thunderers. A full half dozen of his other kinsmen had fallen during the battle, but it was nothing on the pain they had caused to the goblins. Even now as he gazed around the blood soaked field of war there was a carpet of green and black that not even their biggest Warboss could turn to a victory morally. The Thane delighted in the knowledge that when the archers returned to their Warboss they would most likely be eaten by the savage greenskins.
A struggling sound and shouts of anger from behind him made Falgrim turn as a dwarf dragged along a goblin by its leg, the pitiful thing scrabbling in the dirt to try and get free.
“Found this skulk sitting in a tree atop the barrows” the dwarf warrior snarled, casting the goblin forwards with ease so it landed at Falgrim’s feet.
“Please!” the goblin begged, stuffing its hands together and staring around madly “youz leave me alive and me can ged you good stuff! Information yah yah?”
Falgrim was disgusted at the creature, his face contorted by rage. The goblin was one of their shamans, his distinctive hood revealing his true identity, and Falgrim had little patience for those who used magic, let alone a goblin spellcaster. He bent low and grabbed the goblin by the scruff of its collar, lifting it clean off its feet and snarled into its face.
“The last thing my people would do is ally with your kind greenskin!” before pulling a pistol from his belt and aiming it at the goblins skull.
The shaman squealed and wriggled free before running off at full pelt.
“Leave it” Falgrim said as his warriors went for their weapons.
The Thane aimed down the barrel of his pistol as the goblin ran as fast as its little legs would carry it and with a squeeze of the trigger let his pistol spit forth a rune scarred shot. The bullet smacked home and the shaman toppled over onto its front, twitched for a moment, then died, smoke rising from a hole in its robes.
Falgrim turned to his warriors who trudged back towards the ridge and beyond, their hold. A grim face of determination was etched on all their faces and Falgrim knew like they did that this fight was far from over. The goblins were only the beginning of the greenskin menace, and where goblins roamed, so did their cousins, the Orc. Burials and feasting would honour the dead this night, the slayer Borank foremost in his words and prayers to the gods. Tomorrow morning they would follow the tracks of the archers, and maybe seek their own doom as well.