On the Perils of Short Legs in War

I have just bought a new computer game : The Battle for Middle Earth 2 PC game. Whee. Of course I am uber enthusiastic about it, being a hardcore Tolkien fan and all, but it is a really nice game. Take the graphics for example. At certain points in the game, for example, you see a breathtaking, pure, holy shaft of white light pierce through the gently falling snow and illuminate the path below. And of course it's accompanied by uplifting choral voices singing "aaaaaahhhh aaaahhhhh AHHHHH!" (from the original film soundtrack, no less) to signify that something wonderful has just happened and you've been blessed or something (of course you'd be clueless, but that isn't the point). Also, the Elven dwellings are just magnificent. There is this mallorn/mallard/macdonald tree or something that you grow for food and it has gold and bronze leaves! Shiny leaves! Orcs, trolls and other fashionably evil stuff are also picturesquely grotesque (wrinkles, ugly pout, abdominal fat, uneven tan etc.)

Anyway, that isn't the point. Back to the main topic, which is about the Perils of Short Legs in War. This is something important I have learnt from playing this game.

Well, in one of the campaign scenarios I had to command battalions of Dwarves, which are bearded, short, stout and slow. I would like to point out what I was facing at that point of time was hordes of the Dark Lord's prancing Orcs and Spiders and what not which are significantly faster then my short-legged allies. So when the happy occasion of an enemy attack comes, my army is pelted with generous helpings of poison arrows and flaming shot that fries them to a crisp before they even manage to prick the enemy with the edge of an axe. It is also extremely disheartening to watch your army execute a painfully slow charge order ( I swear they WADDLE to battle) while huge boulders fired from enemy catapaults whiz over their heads ( and occasionally flatten them). You can almost imagine the grin on Sauron's face. Wait. Sauron doesn't have a face. Grin on his Eye? Nevermind.

Anyway. It seems as if short legs were not meant for the battlefield. What would Dwarves do if they had to fight a Mountain Giant anyway? Hack at his pinkie toe?