Battle of the High Hill

The Battle of the High Hill was a battle fought atop the High Hill between the forces of Ekkill Crowsbane and the forces of Clan Winterblood and the Eastern Giants. Initiated via ambush, it is one of the bloodiest battles in recent memory.

Prelude
As Ekkill moved north to combat the growing Winterblood threat, his war party would learn the foul rumors whispered of giants held truth, and their hostility had not been overestimated. Fully understanding he was at a massive disadvantage in any pitched battle, Ekkill considered the art of ambuscade, and its use. He consulted with Shieldbangers Lonely Stian and Fyrilles the Wisp to learn more, considering a hunt-- only a giant is a much greater bear, he knew, more reckless, and far more deadly. They shy from fire, Fell advised him, and an ambusher ought to make good on the prey’s every weakness. Ekkill went about laying his trap, and awaited with cautious hope that the plan would be a success.

Battle
With his snare set, Ekkill sent in the bait. Fedarko and his bold Cave Dwellers, accompanied by Viggo Warmblood, Lonely Stian, Fyrilles the Wisp and a handful of other notable warriors, hurried stealthily along the brae of a vast hill, overlooking the camp of Winterblood and eastern giants below.

Atop the hill had been set several mounds of kindling, generously coated with Fyrilles’ volatile sap. The brave detachment unleashed wild volleys of arrows upon the enemy camp, forcing them to charge uphill and into Fyrilles’ hands. She detonated the mounds with her flaming arrows as the enemy charged, sending most of the giants to rout-- trampling their own allies as they went. The berserking Winterbloods continued their charge largely unfazed, a most vigorous battle joined.

The Cave Dwellers retreated, climbing further in the direction of the hill’s brow, where the rest of their allies lay in wait; the center held as the flanks corrugated about the reckless berserkers, consumed now by the bloodlust they’d honed for their weapon.

This would not be the end of the battle, however, as ascending the far side of the hill boomed three giants, brimming with rage and closing in on the battle with every step. Knowing the charge of even just a few giants could break their lines, Viggo gathered a small handful of Cave Dweller warriors and rushed to engage their ferocious adversaries.

Recognizing Viggo’s self-sacrifice, Ekkill hastened to eliminate the berserkers, gorged now on blood both their own and that of his men. The tide was turning; he'd always resolved to leave the enemy a route of escape-- give a man the means to survive, and he'll take it. If he is unable to run, Ekkill knew, a man will fight as ten. Berserkers falter not in the rage of battle, and for every enemy that fell, three more of his own joined them in the dirt.

Defeat had grown on his mind a certainty-- Ekkill suffered grave wounds in a brutal duel with Drygr Giantborn, and knew himself beyond doubt to be a dead man. He looked on, his face a portrait of blood and grime, but instead of gazing upon giants, he witnessed Viggo trudging back toward the battle, awash in gore. Ekkill bellowed a rallying cry, exclaiming, “Warmblood vanquishes giants! On, men! Forward!”. His forces turned to the enemy with fire in their eyes, forging mettle into anger and anger into courage. They stuck into the enemy force; Viggo himself cut through the line of foemen as if the gods themselves granted him their indomitable might. The tide of battle turned in a great crimson wave, a roar of triumph piercing the sky, and as if in the blink of an eye every berserker lay butchered by coalition axes.

Aftermath
Though the losses sustained by the coalition forces were heavy, Fyrilles presented a strange concoction that kept several of the heavily injured warriors from succumbing to death. Still, not all were lucky enough to taste her bitter poultice upon their lips. More than a thousand were left dead, and the slow task of burning the fallen and caring for the wounded cost two weeks' march. Several small skirmishes would occur for the following months, but nothing so great took place until word of the west returned on the mouths of Crowkiller scouts...