“Sure, people love to wax poetic about it, but in reality, there are only three possible outcomes if the army you lead fell into one of the enemy’s plans. You could force your way through all the clever plotting and strategy by brute force, typically by relying on either an advantage in troop quantity, quality, or both. Alternatively, you could withdraw and pull out before the situation becomes untenable. This is unlikely to go smoothly or without sacrifice, but it is usually the safer option.

The third possibility, you ask? You do neither of the above and die.” - Rittmeister Janus Olfram, Herzog von Clausewitz, circa 307 FP.

Shortly after the imperial army discovered the dwarven cavalry charging for their rear, several things happened at the same time.

The imperial army naturally called for their troops to withdraw and prepare to repel the surprise attack. This was expected, and even for a highly disciplined army it was not easy to turn around and disengage from an enemy, much less an army that was heavy on the conscripts. As such, the order caused some minor chaos amongst the imperial army as they tried to obey the commands they were given.

That was when sharp, shrill bird cries echoed from above the battlefield, the sounds made by Reinhardt’s flying scouts, a loud and clear signal to spring the assault they prepared for this occasion.

A wall of steel emerged from the forest north of the battlefield, one that encompassed over a good half of the battlefield’s width, or at least that was what they seemed like to the imperial army. The foreigners had never seen a solid line of dwarven infantry before and likely mistook them as a moving wall of steel. Another such wall also emerged to the south, though this time part of the length was filled by the Free Lances.

During the day where the cavalry snuck behind the enemy lines through the mountain path, the dwarven infantry had split up and quietly entered the forests to the north and south of the battlefield. Three thousand heavies and half the light infantry went to the north, while the remaining ones went to the south, with the Free Lances to make up for the thousand fewer heavies in that group.

They formed a long, thin line and pressed against the sides of the imperial army’s formation, adding to the chaos as others in the forest behind them used branches and other means to kick up a massive dust cloud to give the illusion that there were many more troops coming. The sudden assault from the sides by unfamiliar foes coupled with the perception that they had fallen to a pincer attack caused more chaos to take place amongst the enemy troops.

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As the imperial army’s frontline started to disengage from the defenders, they also saw to their surprise how some of the earthen ramparts suddenly shifted to the sides, almost like a gate opening wide. Their surprise was short-lived, however, and was soon replaced with horror when dwarven war chariots rushed out from the opening in the defense lines and straight into the retreating imperial army’s frontline.

The massive chariots, each drawn by three rhinos, passed through the opening in the defense line four at a time and the ones in front immediately spread out to the sides to make room for the ones further behind. The chariots kept coming out until they formed a line twenty-five chariots across and four chariots deep, at which point Grafin Harscape, atop the second chariot in the center of the line, gave the order to charge out.

Imperial soldiers were trampled beneath the heavy hooves of the rhinos, or directly skewered by their horns. Others fell before the chariots and were directly run over, the solid wheels of the metal contraptions easily crushing everything beneath it. Yet others were scythed down by either the spiked rods that extended from the axles of the chariots or the long polearms held by its occupants, while marksmen armed with repeating crossbows shot down those beyond their reach.

As the chariots pressed westwards, the line formation to the north and south pressed forward, pushing the imperial army soldiers towards the center of the battlefield, where they would end up being in the path of the oncoming chariots. The imperial soldiers naturally resisted, but found themselves stymied by the foreign foe they faced for the first time.

Their spears faltered before the heavy army worn by the dwarves, and their armor shattered against the powerful blows that the dwarven elite countered with. The short, stout dwarves looked like looming constructs of steel that seemed unstoppable to the imperial soldiers and they kept getting pushed back as a result.

Around that time, the cavalry charge reached the back of the imperial army’s makeshift camp on the other end of the battlefield.

Two thousand heavy cavalry mounted on rhinos directly charged through the wooden fences the imperial army set up around their camp as if it wasn’t there. They broke into the camp and just directly crashed through tents, watch towers, and other structures before them, laying waste and trampling those who dared to stand before them.

Each of the rhino mounts of the heavy cavalry detachment wore barding that were as impenetrable as what their riders wore, which made them look like fearsome, unstoppable monsters to the enemy army unfamiliar with them.

Behind the heavies, came the dwarven light cavalry with Angus Harscape directly leading the charge. The dwarven light cavalry bore no shields, trusting in their armor to deflect any blows that came their way, and instead carried weapons in both hands. Most carried some sort of spear or lance to take advantage of the momentum of their charge paired with whatever hand weapon they favored.

Angus Harscape himself carried a solid metal lance, something a human wouldn’t even be able to wield, in one hand and an axe in the other as he reveled in the charge, the lance in his hand piercing through foes that stood in his way – if his mount didn’t ram them with bone-crushing force instead – and his axe chopped down at enemy soldiers he passed by.