At the witching hour, as men drowsed at their posts and blinked blearily into the gloom, half-blinded by their own torches, they came.
Cloaked in the chill darkness, a picked team of Shades crept through the copse of trees, ever closer to the human Archers stationed the small hill.
"Be vewy vewy quiet... we're hunting Archers..."
With them was an Assassin, whose midnight robes concealed an array of deadly throwing stars that gleamed darkly with bloodlust.
He raised a fist, and the shadowy company raised their soot-blackened crossbows.
In an instant, the biting cold wind had turned into jagged bolts.
Men screamed and died, riddled with barbed arrows. The remainder stood in shock as shadows coalesced into the forms of charging elves, drawing forth long curved blades for the kill.
Sneaky sneaky sneaky... At this range, the Archers haven't a prayer.
The slaughter lasted mere seconds, and the sight of the carnage sent a nearby unit of village militia fleeing in horror back to the safety of the houses.
"We're under attack! Let's er... go tell the others!"
One unit cut to ribbons and another panicking... "Screw this, let's go pick mangoes instead."
But tough conditions breed hardy men, and the commotion had alerted the Archers stationed in the chapel.
Lit by the torches of the men they had killed, the Shades proved easy targets for the Archers. They loosed a cloud of arrows into the murderous Druchii, slaying two where they stood.
Pinned down by unrelenting volleys of arrows from the chapel, the Shades consolidated, taking potshots at militiamen from the cover of the hill and the wooden shack built on it.
It's hard to see from here, but that chapel's buzzing with angry archers.
Determined to drive the invaders back, a squad of villagers clambered up the hill, only to be met with a hail of crossbow bolts and throwing stars at pointblank range, scything them down where they stood.
"Drive them back! For the EmpirraaaaaGGGHH!!!"
But with dawn fast approaching, the assassin cursed and blew on his horn, summoning the rest of raiders from their prepared positions.
Hearing the signal, Aedan's Dark Riders and cruel Corsairs marched swiftly in for the kill, and for a moment, it seemed the Archer's valiant actions would succeed only in delaying the inevitable.
Corsairs march on Grigor's Folly, curved blades a-whicker with excitement...
...while Aedan and his Dark Riders gallop in like Mexican banditos.
But dawn brought hope for Grigor's Folly as Boyar Ivann Borislav and his mounted command crested the hill, riding hard for the village.
Spot the Kislev reinforcements way over there? Ok I should have taken the pic from the other side.
Sighting the arrival of enemy reinforcements, the Archers in the chapel loosed their bows at the Dark Riders, slaying a handful even as they rode near.
The two forces met in the village clearing. Spurring his steed on, Ivann drove his depleted wedge of Gryphon Legion into the Corsairs, who drew their wicked blades and met their charge.
The Kislevites fought like men possessed, lashing out with their flanged maces at the Dark Elves. Incredibly, the Corsair's nerve broke in the face of their assault and were scattered by the triumphant horsemen.
Don't mess with Kislevites before their morning vodka.
With only his faithful banner bearer left by his side, Ivann nonetheless declared a charge on Aedan's Dark Riders.
Sensing the tide of battle turn against him, Aeden chose not to meet his charge.
Instead he called for his elves to withdraw, leaving the village safely in the hands of the Empire and the Assassins and Shades to melt back into the shadows from whence they came.
Result: Empire victory