It was a glorious night for the Dwarves! Advancing in line across the table, the Griffon struck the first blow against the repugnant enemy, plunging in off the right flank to shred a couple of Fodder. Without waiting for her allies, the fearsome Grifoon charged headlong into the eye tyrant, raking her talons across its chitinous hide, unfortunately with little result. On the left, Freya lead her maidens and attendant warriors into battle with a group of Bathalian Centurions and their demon subordinates. Although some of her usually stout fighters were overwhelmed by the vile stink of the verminous Bathalians, most of the dwarven troops engaged their targets, sinking their axes deep into the slime-covered flesh of their prey. In the center, the piercers found their range and plinked away, although, if truth were told, their bolts were more worrisome than dangerous to the enemy formation. In front of the crossbowmen, Captain Ironhammer and his trusty berserks rushed forwards, anxious to bring the enemy to bear. The Darkspawn horde readied to meet the dwarven charge, their courage bolstered by the presence of D'Khul the mage and his incomparable magics. Suddenly, the ground shook violently and tore asunder. The Stone Spirit, an ally of the dwarves older than time itself, rose up from the unimaginable depths of its earthly bough to rip apart the villainous sorcerer as he cowered in the midst of the Darkspawn ranks. Although the Bathalians and their allies quickly converged to send both Spirit and Griffon from this mortal plane, the pair had rent gaping wounds in the fabric of the enemy host that could not easily be closed. Ironhammer and the berserks, supported by a quartet of lightly armoured young dwarf recruits wielding man-catchers, struck at their now disorganized targets. Once again, some of the fighters faltered at the stench of the Bathalians, but the numbers were now on the side of the earth-folk. The Darkspawn were caught in the pincers of the dwarven host, Freya and her maidens acting as the anvil to Ironhammer and his berserks hammer. While losses were not insignificant, and injuries mounted, in the end the field was claimed by the men and women of the mountain. Long live King Grimsteel!