On the Fourth Age and the Fall of Dol Amroth

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On the Fourth Age and the Fall of Dol Amroth

Postby CaptainBeregond » Thu Nov 01, 2007 4:23 pm

Thorhak and I recently ran a campaign. I used Fiefdoms, he used his Bud Select Knights. We played Ill Met by Moonlight, Seize the Prize, Clash of Piquets, and finally a homebrewed Siege of Dol Amroth itself involving boats.

The basic premise is that its the Fourth Age and while Elessar is campaigning, he left Imrahil in charge, but Imrahil messed everything up. Or, more eloquently:

The Fourth Age has begun. Saruman has fallen, Sauron has been destroyed, evil is gone from Middle-Earth. But even the so-called ‘good’ men have their weaknesses… King Aragorn spends his time abroad, far off in the distant east or furthest south. Gondor is left under the rule of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, who in his age has taken to the drink. The longer the king is gone, the worse is rule gets. The independent clansmen of Lamedon are rounded up and used for slave labour. Pelargir is overtaxed and prohibited from shipping anything other than liquor. The economy plummets. In Lossarnach, the vast farms are converted into barley fields, and all the harvest is brewed. Lacking food, Gondor starves. A messenger is sent eastward searching for King Elessar, but none know how far away he is. Rohan is asked for aid, but King Eomer, too, is abroad. Elfwine brings his personal guard to fight against his grandfather, but they have little else to give. But the will of men is not easily vanquished, and across the fiefs, through the highlands, through the dales, comes the call to arms. Ancient armour is shined, heirloom claymores are drawn. This is the tale of the end of Gondor, the fall of Dol Amroth and the descent of man.


And so, without further ado, the battle report (pictures at the end):


DOL AMROTH - MARCH 23, F.A. 29, 0825 HOURS
“Halflings feet!” cursed Isimir. The Lossarnach Captain strode through the rubbish of the castle’s outer walls. He kicked a smaller stone into the harbor, where it made a satisfying splash. With his five axemen, the last axemen in Gondor, he surveyed the ruins of what had once been once of Gondor’s greatest fortresses. “Now what are we going to do?” he asked. Only the sea gulls answered.

DOR-EN-ERNIL – JANUARY 12, F.A. 29, 2340 HOURS
The raid had gone badly. It had started simply enough: charge in, burn a minor brewery, and then flee into the night. No one had realized that Imrahil himself was visiting at the time. They should have fled then, when they first glimpsed the Knights charging out in full regalia. But Forlong II himself had ordered the charge. And charge they had, the Lord of Lossarnach leading them all.
Forlong I had fallen at the Pelennor, and his son had been left to pick up the pieces of his reign. Here, now, was a chance for honour, a chance to not be forgotten by history, a chance to step out from the shadow of his father’s heroism and become his own man. A chance he took.
And he excelled at it. He lashed out left and right with his spear, and Imrahil’s personal guard fell apart. There was a clatter of hooves, and the knights of Dol Amroth were upon him. A horse fell, skewered in its charge. He skewered its rider’s throat. The others wheeled about, but Forlong was untouchable now. Horses fell, riders fell. Bones splintered, armour cracked.
Forlong stood alone know. He had penetrated far ahead of his army, and he was surrounded now. It was no matter; there were only more victims to fall to his spear. Four slain guardsmen later, he found himself face to face against the Imrahil, the Black Prince himself.
“Now,” he growled, “I’ll make you pay for your misdeeds!” He lunged forward.
Imrahil simply caught the blow on his shield. “Your rebellion ends now,” he growled as he attacked.
Youthful exuberance and surprise can beat even the best trained soldier, but when the surprise is lost, experience is nigh undefeatable. Imrahil’s shield seems to be everywhere at once, and his sword was coming in too fast to dodge. The fight was swift and decivise. Forlong’s head lay at the Black Prince’s feet.

DOR-EN-ERNIL – JANUARY 12, F.A. 29, 2345 HOURS
“Retreat!” Castamir of Pelargir’s cry broke the resolve of the rebel troops. With Knights and Guardsman looming out of the night, they turned and fled into the hills.
“Nae!” shouted Angbor, Lord of Lamedon, “Ye cannae retreat! There’s only half o’ em left! We can still win!” An arrow slammed into his shoulder, and his sudden cry of pain cut off his rallying cry. With Forlong dead, Pelargir fled,and Angbor wounded, the noble sons of Gondor left the fight.

PELARGIR – APRIL 16, F.A. 25, 1300 HOURS
“I’m leaving you in charge of Gondor,” said King Elessar, “I may be gone for quite some time.”
“I will be in good hands,” said Prince Imrahil, “There is little to fear. Be careful in the south; it would not be well for a stray arrow to take you without an heir.”
“It would take more than a stray arrow to stop me from coming back home. Just make sure everything’s in shape when I get back.”

DOL AMROTH – MARCH 23, F.A. 29, 0800 HOURS
“Och, lads! Today’s the day!” Angbor stood on top of his freshly trimmed battering ram, addressing his army. “For almost four years now, we’ve been trod upon by this usurper! Our crops taken for barley! Our sons taken for slaves! It ends today! Imrahil will not leave this isle alive! Bring down his castle! Take no prisoners! For Gondor!”
“For Gondor!” roared the rebel army.
“For Elfwine!” shouted Angbor.
“For Elfwine!” echoed the army.
Angbor’s last cry was only a whisper, “And for the true king Elessar.” He leapt off the ram and lifted it with his clansmen, then he charged toward the causeway.

ETHRING—MARCH 15, F.A. 29, 1620 HOURS
“My grandfather will retreat to Dol Amroth. It can last out almost as long as Helm’s Deep.” The leaders of the rebellion met in a wooden hut. Now on the winning side, the secrecy was no longer necessary, but old habits die hard. If was Elfwine who spoke. “He has enough supply of food, water, and liquor to last for months.”
“Then we’ll have to take the citadel,” said Faramir, Lord of Ithilien.
“Aye,” agreed Angbor, “Let’s put an end tae this mess .“
“Madness,” said Beregond, Faramir’s lieutenant, “It’s far too risky. We can starve them out. We have the time. Have Pelargir set a blockade.”
“Pelargir is no longer our ally,” said the last member of the command group, a hooded man who went only by Thorongil, “Castamir has sold out to Imrahil. He is our friend no more. The fortress must be taken, and soon.”
“My men are ready,” said Angbor, “We can march at dawn.”
“As our mine,” said Faramir.
“Then we march,” said Elfwine, “Iluvatar save us all.”

DOL AMROTH – MARCH 23, F.A. 29, 0801 HOURS
“That’s the signal,” said Isilmir from his perch atop the siege tower. “Launch the boat!” The rangers below him began loosening ropes. The tower itself was hastily built, and the axeman fell nervous standing atop it. But if it would get him into the action faster, he would live with it. Lossarnach had nothing to lose and everything to gain. The boat moved up with the tide, and the tower wobbled dangerous. Isilmir was silently thankful he hadn’t eaten lunch that day. He couldn’t help but notice, however, that none of the boat’s motion was in a forward direction. “Hurry up!” he shouted down at the rowers. “The ram’s halfway across the causeway! We don’t want to be late!” When no one shouted back, he glanced downward, and only then did he notice that all of his rowers were dead, transfixed by arrows. “If you want something done,” he muttered, “Do it yourself.” He begin to climb done the siege tower and towards the oars.

Adravar, Chief Brewer of Dol Amroth and Imrahil’s right-hand man, watched the advance from the inner wall. “The Rebels are attacking, my lord.”
“’Tis a futile gesture,” replied Imrahil, “They won’t even reach the walls, much less break them.”
There was a massive groaning noise, and a huge boulder appeared in the sky. The massive missile slammed down into the outer wall over the gatehouse in an explosion of masonry. Adravar sighed, “They have a trebuchet.”
There was another groan followed by a massive thump and cries of pain. “They have two trebuchets.”
“Shut up,” growled Imrahil.
“My lord, our walls can’t repel firepower of that magnitude.”
Imrahil looked out at the doomed wall. “Gather my guards. We’ll meet the charge.”

Even has the ram reached the gatehouse, another boulder slammed into the threshold, and the wall fell. Angbor and his clansmen swarmed into the opening. Behind them came Elfwine of the Mark, Elfwine of Dol Amroth, now. His horse leapt over the forgotten ram and came to a stop in the center of the debris. The smoke settled around him, and Imrahil’s guard quailed before his might. He spurred his horse forward.

Silent unnoticed, another boat nudged up along another wall segment. A ladder was raised, and a cloaked figure scampered up it. The defender was taken unawares and his throat slit. A second guard was hurled screaming into the sea. The rest charged at the newcomer, and he turned to take them on, he sword gleaming in the morning light.

“Fall back!” shouted Adravar.”Fall back to the keep!” Elfwine’s lance found him, but his call continued to echo. The guardsmen fell back through to the inner walls, and the gates were shut and barred, and Elfwine could not force his way through.

On the water, the giant tower slowly floated towards the castle. Isimir, now assisted by his axemen, rowed the boat toward thebattle.

And on the walls, the cloaked man continued to slay. When the wall section was clear, he broke into a tower, knocking aside a ranger. Before long, he stood atop the inner wall, looking down at Imrahil. “Imrahil!” he shouted.
The corrupted prince, the self-styled ‘Lord of Beer’ looked upwards. “I have no time for such as you. Come down if you wish to die!”
Aragorn Elessar of the House of Telcontar, King of Gondor, cast aside his cloak. His sword caught the light again, and Imrahil could see it was the blade Anduril itself. His armour glistened with the sigil of the white tree, and a star shone on his brow. “You come up here, Imrahil, and we’ll finish this as men.”
“Verily.” The Black Prince prince walked up the stairs, his cape billowing out behind him in the wind. “I shall kill you now, and Gondor shall be mine forever more.”
“I think not,” said Elessar.
Imrahil charged, and his blow was a mighty one, but Elessar’s defenses were too strong. Anduril swung once, and Imrahil’s armour fell away, destroyed. The Black Prince took no heed, and his counter attack scored a hit on the king. With a mad roar, Elessar attacked again, and Anduril sheared the prince’s blade in two. Imrahil cast the broken shards away.
“Will you surrender?” asked Aragorn.
“Never.” spat the prince.
Anduril stabbed again.

DOL AMROTH – MARCH 23, F.A. 29, 0820 HOURS
Elessar strode into the main courtyard, wiping blood off of Anduril with a cloth. “It is done,” he said.
“What now?” asked Elfwine, dismounting.
“Dol Amroth is yours, if you wish it.”
“I cannot accept. I will be King of Rohan after my father dies.”
“Then act as its regent for now whilst I search for someone worthy.”
“I can do that.”
“For now, we can all go home. There are a lot of things to fix.”
There was a loud crunch and the two leaders spun around, redrawing their swords. A boat had slammed into the isle’s edge, and the Axemen of Lossarnach leapt over the side. “What did we miss?” asked their leader.


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The layout of the first scenario

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Dol Amroth (slightly fuzzy)

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Avenger on a boat!

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Dol Amrothians wait for the end

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Elfwine rides through the fallen gate
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Postby knitemare » Thu Nov 01, 2007 4:44 pm

Hah! That was fantastic. I love the end, good stuff right there!
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Postby thorhak » Thu Nov 01, 2007 5:21 pm

It was great fun...although as you can read Imrahil eventually was "Ill met by Anduril" LOL :twisted:

I achieved a minor victory for Ill met by Moonlight, however, he had my entire army encircled and was getting ready to put the hammer to the anvil if you will. Unfortunately, I broke him and his little boys ran like girls - had they some stiff ale in them they might have stayed around to fight. I seriously stole this one from him.

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Capt. Beregond or should I say Elfwine rode away with a minor victory in Seize the Prize. He had priority in the first round and had Elfwine charge forward. I won priority in the next round, but he called a heroic movement which I was not in position to counter, which allowed him to gain access to the prize. I was able to tie him up for awhile, and Imrahil did Heroic combat to consecutive turns to break through his lines, but alas - Elfwine had a mount, Imrahil did not!

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In clash of Piquets he made an early mistake, dividing his forces in two. I quickly pounced on one flank and he never recovered, giving me a major victory. Sorry no pics..

In the siege, his 2 trebuchets made quick work of m gatehouse. And then of course Elessar defeated a whole wall of men by himself, made his way to Imrahil, and after exchanging a few rounds of blow...well you know the rest...

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Postby knitemare » Thu Nov 01, 2007 8:26 pm

Awesome pictures. Were the walls of the fortress store supplied or did you bring them? How long did that scenario take to complete?
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Postby Angelos » Thu Nov 01, 2007 9:44 pm

Really nice report, I really like reading pic reports.

The store manager looks really irritated in one of the pics :P
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Postby thorhak » Fri Nov 02, 2007 9:27 am

Ya' the store manager was teaching some young 'uns at the table next to us how to play 40K. Ever since the GW store opened in St. Louis, he's been trying to get me to play 40k as well. If I remember correctly, that expression was in response to our latest round of bantering regarding that issue...it's all in good fun :twisted:
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Postby BrentS » Fri Nov 02, 2007 10:00 am

AWESOME stuff. I like how you put the Minas Tirith and Helm's Deep kits together to form an entire keep.

Well played.
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