Field Notes: Dwarven battle order

1 December, 2021

(It just seems to me that if the usurper Dwarf King did decide to send the dwarves against The Empire, they’d be shit at it)

We find ourselves in the unusual position of engaging with large dwarven forces on open ground. Although dwarves individually are tough adversaries, their battle order en masse leaves much to be desired. Certain aspects of their habitual voie de la guerre can be used to advantage.

Most obviously, dwarves are accustomed to defending tunnels. Their best tactics amount to raising a shield wall and plugging the gap, at which they excel better than any other troop. They do not cope at all well with flanking or encirclement: they have not the battle order to wheel a unit to face a threat from another direction.

There is an important psychological aspect as well. They tend to treat any sort of wall or barrier as though it were miles of impenetrable rock. Above ground, the gates of their forts are heavily defended, but the walls defended lightly or not at all. It simply does not naturally occur to them that anything might come from that direction.

The same oversight applies to terrain. Dwarves do not cope at all well with mud or bog, which our farmlands tend to be at certain times of the year. To them, such terrain is effectively an impenetrable barrier, and they can tend to assume that it is a barrier for anyone else as well. This, even to the extent of discounting the threat that artillery poses across such terrain. Without training, advice, or bitter experience, they tend to organise their fortifications under the assumption that attacks can only come along the road.

In respect of advice or bitter experience, they are particularly subject to the bane of armies everywhere: senior officers of noble rank freshly arrived from home with little or no field experience, who are quite certain that they know how war is done. Dwarves being so long-lived, their battle doctrine tends to be woefully out of date – centuries so.

A final noteworthy point, obvious as soon as it is stated, is that dwarves tend to be short-sighted. While human troops will see the dust of an approaching force miles away on the horizon, dwarves quite literally cannot see that far. Their forces may have auxiliaries who can, of course, but their information will tend to be ignored. Their hearing also is lacking. Their most useful way of detecting approaching troops is by the vibration through the earth of marching on stone or hard-packed earth.

Put simply, they are tremendously easy to sneak up on provided you avoid marching the troops.

Their greatest strength is their night vision. It is of paramount importance that camps and defences take this into account. At night, every aspect of battle is in favour of an attacking dwarven unit.

Their other greatest strength is, of course, their sappers.

In summary:

  • Approach through the fields or forests, avoid roads. Use route step. March heavy troops on the roads as decoys and feints. On approach, wrap the wheels of seige engines.
  • Attack walls, not gates. Breaching or surmounting. Indirect fire over the walls: trebuchet rather than ballistae.
  • Draw the enemy out into the open. Flank and encircle – do not simply send in a column of pikes.
  • Be especially vigilant at night. Camp discipline as for actions against orcs.
  • Stone fortifications are no defence against dwarves whatever. Camp on mud if at all possible.

L’Empire perdure.

Ages of ages, cycles of cycles

13 March, 2021

In the beginning, the gods created the stars and the earth. And the earth was formless and void, and darkness covered the face of the waters. And the gods said, “Let there be Light”, and there was light. And the gods separated the light from the shadow. And the light and the shadow were the first age.

Ages of ages. Cycles of cycles. A separation, a division of that which must rightly be divided.

The light is life, and the shadow death. How can there be death-in-life? And yet there is one who created death-in-life, and sent armies of the dead to march over the face of the earth.

How can there be life-in-death? How can there be light-in-shadow? Beyond the earth are the stars. When another one brings light-to-shadow, then the age will turn again.

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”

(with thanks to Ursula Le Guin, and to William Tyndale.)


4 April, 2020

She seemed an ordinary elf woman. Beautiful? Oh yes, very much so. Possessed of an ageless grace? Yes, absolutely. Her brow speaking of wisdom, her eyes bright with intelligence? Yes, yes, yes. As I said: ordinary. An ordinary high elf of some status. There was no nimbus around her, her accoutrements did not shout with power, she was not surrounded by a grovelling court of flatterers. She gave audience alone, in a simple clearing in the forest. Perhaps the only clue might be that where she was, the moon seemed brighter and the night grew pale; where she walked, the trees whispered low. And to Lednor, another clue: his own power did not stain the grass here with wrong, so greatly overmatched and overawed – it seemed – that it dare not.

“So, Lednor, you are welcome. Your studies progress well?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Perhaps you might apprise me of them?”

She already knew, of course. But nevertheless: “I have studied the dark half of the cycle my queen. And the toxins with which the plants defend themselves from weeds and vermin.”

“Weeds and vermin. Apt.” Before her feet, the ground moved. Moss budded and roots grew, becoming into a map. “Here, to the south. Weeds and vermin.”

“My Queen?”

She sighed. In patience? Irritation? “Four centuries. How quickly they forget. They have crossed the river again. The usual – tree killing, earth raping, arson. Land clearing, farming, mining. Only a few handful just yet, but more will come if we do not act. They breed so quickly.”

Lednor studied the map. “Yes, my Queen. I understand. I am ready.”

“Are you? Very well. Go weed them, Lednor. Root and branch. Quietly. It might be best to join them, live with them. But do not grow comfortable. The fewer babies among them, the better. The High Druid must not know – he would disapprove of your studies. Many of our own would be uncomfortable with them. The Emperor will know, of course, but he will say nothing. North of the Silvermere is mine and shall remain so.”

Lendor bowed low, and his Queen dismissed him with a motion of her wrist. As he left her presence, his own power began to reassert itself. A subtle odour of tannin-rich water, dank moss and toadstool, rotting wood, and just on the edge of identification, the faint smell of a corpse tangled in the roots below the waterline. He began to make plans. They had not enough human prisoners to properly test the toxins, so he would need to improvise in the field.

His step quickened with anticipation.

Lednor is a “Dark Alleys and Twisted Paths” 13th age druid. He is an adept of the Circle of Decay, with talents “Blighted Stench and “Life Leech”, and a novice of the Circle of Life, with talent “Font of Life”. Unless someone else wants to healbot, in which case I might go Circle of the Land instead.

Still need to do his stats.