Shield

But an with weapons wouldst refresh thy sight, As thou hast ask'd, I deny thee not; Of friend to friends I show them, and I vow Ne'er wouldst be shown their temper as my foe." This said, he bids his armourers diligent Bring arms and armour for the Moorman viewer.

Come sheeny harness, corselets lucent, The fine-wove mail-coat and plate-armour sure; Shields decorate with scutcheons diff'rent, Bullets and spingards, vicebrook's temper pure; Bows, quivers furnish'd with the grinded pile, The sharp-edg'd partisan, the good brown bill.

Brought are the fiery bombs, while they prepare Sulphurous stink-pots and grenades of fire.

But then of Vulcan biddeth he to spare Their dread artillery belching flames in ire; Nought need that gentle, gen'rous spirit care With fear the few and fearful folk t'inspire, And right his reasoning: 'twere both too cheap To play the lion on the silly sheep.

Excellent.

Then Oliver begins the spell combat by casting Shield, the actual spell.

Yay! Up that armor class some without using any more of my precious few remaining points.

So your armor class drops down by four, jumps back up by four.

Because...

Wait, are you asking that to Shield or to him?

To Shield.

Because his spear can manipulate fate to make sure that it hits you.

Ah...

Okay, so in fourth place, we have another Army of the White Hand list, and this one is by Alisher.

And so he's got Saruman with one carban, one wargrider with throwing spears, three scouts with bow, three wildmen with bow, two scouts with shield, and four orcs with spear.

Second warband is an orc captain with a carban, one wargrider with shield and throwing spears, two scouts with bow, one wildman with bow, and three Orcs with Spear, and then Gorulf leading three Scouts with Shield, five Wildmen with Spear, one Carbane, one Wargrider with Shield and Throwing Spears, one Orc with Banner, and one Uruk-Bai with Bow, and then Oathmaker leading four Wildmen with Bow, one Carbane, three Wildmen with Spear, and then a separate Warband.

He has Grima for a total of...

He didn't have the total model count here, but...

But Aelfric, you, what is the spell that you memorized for the day?

Shield.

Shield, okay, cool.

Um, and I should mention that, uh, actually let me find it here.

A little map just double check.

I back up.

[laughs]

Shield up.

Steel rang through the streets of York.

Shields shattered beneath axe blows, and the stones of the city were darkened with blood.

Osbert fell.

Aela fell.

What followed was not simply a defeat, it was the ruin of an army.

The fighting raged across the field as the Northumbrian kings struggled to hold their warriors together.

Shields split beneath spear and axe, and the army of York was crushed before it could escape.

Iorwils was slain, Halfdan was slain beside him, Ingwair also fell.

Great whoredom, an axe age, a sword age.

Shields shall be cloven, a wind age, a wolf age, ere the world sinks.

Mim's sons dance, but the central tree takes fire at the resounding Gjallarhorn.

Loud blows Heimdall, his horn is raised.

There drank the courtiers wine in their Valhall; but the guileful ones silence kept,—the Huns' wrath they feared.

Then said Gniefud with chilling voice (the Southern warrior on a high bench sat):— "Atli has sent me hither on his errand riding on a bit-griping steed through the unknown Mirkwood to pray you, Gunnar, that to his bench ye come with helms of state Atli's home to visit.

Shields ye there can choose, and smooth-shaven spears, gold-red helms, and of Huns a multitude, silver-gilt saddle cloths, sarks gory red, the darts' obstruction, and bit-griping steeds.

The plain he will also give you, the broad Gnita hide, whistling javelins, and gilded prows, vast treasures, and Dunnp's towns, with that famed forest which men the Mirkwood call." Gunnar his head then turned, and to Hagni said:— "What counsellest thou, bold warrior, now such like we hear? Of no gold I knew on Gnita's heath to which we possess not other equal.

Hard is it in the world, great whoredom, an ax age, a sword age.

Shields shall be cloven, a wind age, a wolf age ere the world sinks.

Mim's sons dance, but the central tree takes fire at the resounding Gjallarhorn.

Loud blows Heimdall, his horn is raised.

There drank the courtiers wine in their Valhall; but the guileful ones silence kept: the Huns' wrath they feared.

Then said Gniefraud with chilling voice (the Southern warrior on a high bench sat): "Atli has sent me hither on his errand riding on a bit-griping steed through the unknown Mirkwood to pray you, Gunnar, that to his bench ye come with helms of state Atli's home to visit.

Shields ye there can choose, and smooth-shaven spears, gold-red helms, and of Huns a multitude, silver-gilt saddle cloths, sarks gory red, the darts' obstruction, and bit-griping steeds.

The plain he will also give you, the broad Gnita hide, whistling javelins, and gilded prows, vast treasures, and Danp's towns, with that famed forest which men the Mirkwood call." Gunnar his head then turned, and to Hagni said: "What counsellest thou, bold warrior, now such like we hear? Of no gold I knew on Gnita's heath to which we possess not other equal.