The Account of Graf Gerhard Olenbay
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The sun slowly rose above the mountains in the east, showering the land with brilliant light. It was a nice change from the cool night, and from the way the haze shown around the sun it looked like it was going to be a hot day. Such was the temperature swing at this time of year and in this part of the land; bitter cold at night and quite warm, almost to the point of becoming unbearable, during the day. The farmlands were just beginning to show signs of growth. The crops being planted some months earlier, spring time meant rebirth and it was always encouraging to the people. There was too much rain and snow during the winter months and everyone was thankful that that time was passing.
Graf Gerhard Olenbay stood atop the gatehouse looking towards the sun, with his eyes closed and smiling ever so slightly. He took in a deep breath and exhaled and opened his eyes towards the silhouetted mountains. “So peaceful,” he whispered. “Yet within those mountains lie unimaginable horrors.”
“M’lord,” replied a deep voice from seemingly out of nothing.
“Seby, what are you doing up this early?” questioned Gerhard who continued to look out over the ramparts.
“I couldn’t sleep,” came the answer. A large man dressed in a red and black shirt came striding up the stairs behind the Graf. The man approached and stood slightly behind Gerhard and folded his arms across his chest. “You know how I can’t sleep when a fight is so close at hand.”
“Well, that may be so, but you should get some rest,” the Graf countered looking up and over at his friend. “Sometimes,” he paused for a moment before he continued. “Sometimes, Seby, I wonder why I was placed in this position.”
“Pardon, m’lord?”
“Nothing, I should not have said anything,” Gerhard stated as he placed his hands behind his back and looked again towards the horizon.
“M’lord. You needn’t worry. Lord Sigmar blesses those who seek his favor.”
There was no response, just silence as the two looked out over the early morning landscape. This was the conversation nearly every morning between the two, and Olenbay knew he was capable, but he feared that catastrophic decision that would doom his people. If only he had taken advantage of that time with his grandfather, Whalter, when he was alive. If only his grandfather had not been killed two years earlier. Gerhard stood there silently, then looked down towards his own feet and shook his head.
“I should know better by now,” he chuckled to himself. “Thank you for your patience Sebastian. You listen to my muttering and rambling every morning like this.”
“It’s quite alright m’lord,” Seby replied. “I have confidence in you, and the people have confidence in you. It has been some time since your grandfather, may Sigmar bless his soul, fell in battle. You have lead us fairly and justly since that time and there wasn’t a better person to take his place.”
Sebastian’s words held some truth. Gerhard, although quite young, was a capable leader. He had reorganized the battalions and militia into an easier order of battle and changed a few things in the hierarchy of the town. Nothing major was changed, just minor adjustments that his grandfather would not make. He was too kind and reserved for certain areas. Gerhard took after his grandfather quite a bit, a quiet reservation about him and some timidity which caused his nagging questioning of his own abilities. However, Gerhard did learn from the mistakes that his grandfather made and was determined to not let them happen again.
Gerhard thought about this as he exhaled again, seemingly washing the doubts from his mind and heart.
“Did any reports come in last night?” asked Gerhard, his mind now focused and clear.
“Nothing yet, m’lord,” replied Seby. “The last I heard, movement was spotted along the opposite side of the river.”
“Yes. And at the moment, we have no authorization to send any troops into Averland to support. I cannot risk sending any troops in and igniting a border war.”
“Aye,” responded Seby.
“I did send word to Averheim and Wissenburg of the threat. I even sent a dispatch to Nuln to warn them.”
Seby smiled, knowing the words to come would irritate Gerhard. “Sending word to our fair Countess, hmm, m’lord?”
Gerhard shot Sebastian a hard glance that would have startled a lesser man. Gerhard had only met the Countess Emanuelle once, at her court in Nuln. That impression was forever burned into him of a ruler, the likes of which, he never wanted to become.
“Sebastian, you know as well as I that we would receive aid from the Bretons long before the fair Countess would even lift a finger.”
Sebastian roared with laughter. A laugh that echoed off the mountains themselves, which was quite a feat considering the distance between them and the mountains.
“I did try to gain support from Agbetten,” Gerhard began. “They will not commit to help us unless they know for sure that they can spare the troops. They feel that it is not safe at this time. I do not expect to gain any aid from them.”
Gerhard looked out over the land one last time and turned, hands still behind him and began to walk down the stairs, his friend close behind. As the two descended from the ramparts a squadron of soldiers was awaiting. Seeing their lord approach they all placed their right hand across their chests to their breast, an ancient salute. The Graf returned the salute and thanked the men for watching his horse. The two mounted their steeds and galloped off towards the castle, the ancestral home of the lord of Brennenburg.
“Well Seby, the council will be assembling soon. I want you there.”
“M’lord, I need not be pres…”
“The Captain of my personal guard should be there,” Gerhard interrupted. “Besides, you are one of my finest strategists. Your insight will prove beneficial, or so I think.”
“And your thoughts are the only one’s that matter,” Sebastian roared with laughter again. The Graf Olenbay could not help but follow suit.
Not long after, when the sun had fully risen and all those invited had shown, the council assembled in the old keep of Brennenburg. Gerhard ruled his lands, but if he did not at least seek the advice of the council members, his life could become very miserable. The council had grown considerably since the time of Wolfgard, weak grafs before Gerhard allowing others to gain power and influence decisions. Gerhard did as much as he could to limit the power of these men, but it would be difficult to reverse hundreds of years of tradition over night.
The members sat around a long rectangular table. It was old and very heavy, made from the finest timber that could be found in those parts. There was much history engrained into the wood, seeing many a gathering during the Olenbay familial reign. There were twelve members that were invited to the assembly.
Gerhard sat at the head of the table with Sebastian at his right hand. To the right of him sat Marshall’s Felix Kaltenbach and Aloisi Unterschmidt. Kaltenbach had just recently become Marshall after the death of Klaus Fritz. There were rumors that Kaltenbach himself had Fritz poisoned, but after an investigation the charges were dropped. The men under Kaltenbach’s command thought him an able commander, but thought nothing for him. He had not proved himself to be a popular choice amongst his men, which Kaltenbach himself cared little for. Unterschmidt was opposite in the fact that his men adored him incredibly. He was born to a Brennenburg father and a Tilean mother and was not much older than many of the troops he commanded. He had proven himself repeatedly in battle, being in the thick of the fighting with his troops, enduring hardships along with them.
Next to these men sat Lothar Mann, Lector of Sigmar. Lothar was an elderly man, past his fighting days, but proved a very wise friend to Gerhard. He was the eldest man in Brennenburg and had experience in areas which none of the others could fathom. To his immediate right sat his protégé, Burkhard Werner. He was a younger man, broad of shoulder and incredibly strong, nearly always accompanying Brennenburg contingents into battle. He was a devout man, a bit rash and impetuous at times, but respectful of the authority of others.
At the other end of the table, opposite Gerhard, sat Vera Clausewicz, the only woman on the council and a sorceress of the Grey order of magic. She was the only member of her order in Brennenburg, and had been for some time, being a very capable conjurer.
To her right sat Lukas Manstrom, who was elected to represent the other landed gentry. He was a portly man, greedy and fearing constantly for his land. The only reason he was elected was the other gentry knew that he would be very verbal for the safety of his lands which would ensure the safety of their own.
Next came Altman Gunnar, Burgomeister of the city. In many towns across the empire, men of Gunnar’s position would rule supreme, and he knew this. Because of his position, he was a constant hindrance to Gerhard, as he had been for many years. As Burgomeister, he controlled trade and because of that influenced the gentry quite heavily as well as the artisans, led by Willi Waldschmidt. Waldschmidt was not the kind of man that should have been in charge of anything, and everyone knew it. He did not stand for anything, and many disrespected and ignored him. The only reason he did head the Artisan’s Guild was because of Gunnar.
Karsten Hochstahl sat in the seat for his father Ulf, Grandmaster of the Wissengaurd. Ulf rarely came to Brennenburg but it was the tradition of the order that the Grandmaster was always the representative of his order in every council across the county. Obviously, it is impossible to be everywhere at once, so a suitable substitute must be present. Sometimes it takes days for such a representative to arrive, and can delay councils considerably. Starting without the Wissengaurd present is a grave insult to their order. The kind of insult that Ulf would not forget, and the kind of insult that none wanted to render. The Wissengaurd were indispensable in battle which Ulf knew and used to his advantage. Karsten was not as harsh as his father, more worldly in many ways, and much more of a diplomat. He had long blonde hair and caught the eye of many a young maiden as he himself was quite strapping.
Finally, rounding out the council is Grunri Hammerstrom, elder of the town’s dwarf population. There was a fairly sizeable population of dwarfs in Brennenburg, and they needed representation at the council as well. But, even if there were only one dwarf in the whole of the town, he himself would be in the assembly. It is better to have a dwarf on your side after all.
“Let’s start this thing, shall we?” demanded Altman Gunnar, slamming his fist on the table as everyone began to settle in their seats.
“Thank you Altman,” chided Gerhard as he sat. “But I believe I can handle the opening remarks.”
Altman quietly sat down, angered at what he thought was insolence from the Graf. The rest of the gathering sat down and the murmur hushed as everyone anticipated Gerhard’s coming remarks.
“Thank you all for coming,” started Gerhard. “These may prove to be trying times, as there are reports, of which I’m sure you’ve all heard, of a large orc horde approaching from upriver. It appears they are traveling along the river front and still in Averland territory. Within the last hour I have received a report of the horde destroying Hochsleben and are fastly approaching Agbetten. I called you all here to decide the course of actions we should take. I open the floor to discussion.”
“I say let Averland handle it,” remarked Marshall Kaltenbach coldly. “It is their matter, not ours.”
“I agree!” shouted Manstrom. “We don’t want to draw the horde towards us; maybe they’ll stay on the other side of the river.”
“We cannot just leave the greenskins to ravage our brethren,” countered Berkhard Werner.
“Averlanders and Wissenlanders are hardly brethren,” retorted Kaltenbach in haste. “Plus those in Agbetten have already refused us aid.”
“Under our Lord Sigmar, we are,” stated Lector Mann, supporting his protégé. “Whether you like it or not, we are united under the Emperor who is ordained by Sigmar to rule the lands as one.” The Lector received support for this statement from several, signified by ‘Ayes’ and slight pounding upon the table. “It is not of our doing if Agbetten does not remember our kinship ties.”
“Perhaps we should wait from word from Averland, to find what they think of this matter,” commented Vera. “It would be unwise for us to prattle in business that may not be our own,” she received a similar salute from some as the Lector had. “Averland may not want or even need our help.”
“I have already sent messengers to Averheim and Wissenburg to assess the situation,” replied Gerhard. “But we may not receive instructions until it is too late.”
“I will not take orders from an Averlander!” bellowed Kaltenbach as he pounded his fist onto the table.
“No one is asking you to bow to Averland,” stated Sir Karsten as he leaned forward. “But it may be wise to lend our support in a combined effort to crush the horde. If we can keep them away from our lands, all the better as I see it.”
“I agree!” shouted Manstrom.
“Our forces are strong,” started Marshall Unterschmidt. “But I am not sure if it would be wise to split our forces with such an imposing threat present…”
“Exactly,” interrupted Kaltenbach. “We have strong walls with which to aid in our defense if the need arises.”
“An’ dontcha forgets it,” retorted Grunri. Making sure all remembered that his kinsmen had a crucial part in the construction of the town walls.
“I never thought I’d see the day when our ‘brave’ Marshals would cower behind walls,” laughed Gunnar.
“Watch who you insult,” roared Kaltenbach as he stood and drew his sword. Gunnar continued to laugh, putting up his hands in mocking apologetics. Unterschmidt placed his hand on Kaltenbach’s shoulder and urged him to sit.
“Remember who has protected you,” stated Unterschmidt matter of factly as Kaltenbach sheathed his sword. “You may control the trade in this town but an orc would care little for that if he were to get to you.”
“I knows not where the fight be, but wherever me axe is needed me and me lads’ll be,” declared Grunri.
“Thank you for that support Grunri, we have always relied heavily upon it,” stated Gerhard sincerely.
“Even if we do receive word from Wissenburg or Averheim, it may be some time before they provide any aid,” said Sebastian, finally entering into the discussion.
“This is true,” replied Mann. “With the destruction of Hochsleben I am sure that Averheim knows…”
“You can’t seriously think that Averland will be able to assemble troops in time to stop this horde?” interrupted Gunnar, as several others began speaking causing the room to form into a maelstrom of opinion, the words gaining volume and anger by the second.
Sebastian leaned over to Gerhard, “I knew this would happen,” he stated as the Graf slanted to hear his friend’s words. Gerhard only nodded slightly, trying to hear what was being said, but there was no hope. Kaltenbach and Gunnar were yelling at each other while conversations broke down at the corners of the table. It was impossible to get a point across.
“Alright, alright,” Gerhard stood to silence the council. “We will break for half an hour, everyone cool down and assemble your thoughts. I will hear everyone’s say and I will make the decision accordingly.” The murmur never totally died down, but Olenbay turned and left the room with Sebastian closely behind him. “I will be in my chamber if you need me Seby,” stated Gerhard as he hurried along looking down with his hand rubbing his head as he went.
“Aye m’lord,” replied Sebastian as he halted where he stood.
Entering his chamber, Gerhard flung himself upon his bed face first. The room was fairly dark with a few candles and the fire place lit to provide most of the light. It was a nice relief from the bickering of the council. The room was quiet, only the crackling of the fire place could be heard.
“Are you alright Gerhard,” came a sweet voice from out of the darkness.
“Yes, m’love. Everything’s alright,” he responded, his words muffled from the sheets that covered his face.
“Is the council fighting again?” His young wife, Isolde, emerged from the darkness and sat next to him on the bed rubbing his back gently.
“Yes, they are,” he replied letting out a sigh of relief as she caressed him. “Some believe it’s Averland’s responsibility, a couple seem to want to attack, some want to hold and wait to see what happens.”
“And what do you think?” Her words were almost earth shatteringly profound to him. It was difficult for him to sometimes realize that he himself made the final decision, it may cause friction at times, but it was still his choice in the end. Gerhard turned, pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed. He sat close to his wife and laid his head upon her shoulder, resting there for several minutes to gather his thoughts.
“Thank you my dear,” he said with his arm around her. “You calm me like none other can.”
He soon stood, their hands entwined, and he pulled away gently telling her with his eyes that he had to leave. It would not be long until the council reconvened and he now knew what action needed to be taken.
As the councilors gathered in the room, Gerhard entered, Sebastian in tow. As Kaltenbach and Gunnar began to speak Olenbay raised his right hand, halting their speech.
“The time for indecision is past,” he began without sitting. “There is no time for further discussion,” he leaned forward onto the table with both hands balled into fists. “I have heard your council, and appreciate it greatly. I have made my decision on the course on which we are to take. Please do not be angered that I did not take a vote, but this is my decision and my decision alone. I will need all of your help in the coming days, and proper credit will be given where it is due, I assure you all.”
Kaltenbach and Gunnar grumbled as they were cut short. Gunnar was especially distraught as he sat down in his seat, slouching back and hardly heeding the words the young Graf declared. While these men dreaded this decisiveness, even in the face of a major threat, others nodded and smiled seeing the development of a great leader in front of their very eyes.
“We will remain here and make our stand,” Gerhard began again. “I agree with Aloisi that our forces are not strong enough to engage this threat, which we still do not know the vastness of. However, we do need to locate the horde if possible and determine it’s course. Aloisi,” Gerhard looked over at the Marshal who was only a few years his senior.
“Yes m’lord?” Aloisi rose from his seat.
“Assemble your most dependable horsemen to find the horde and track it’s movements,” Gerhard nodded his head letting Aloisi know that it was alright to depart.
“Yes m’lord,” he replied, bowing slightly then leaving the room quickly.
“Karsten, if at all possible I would like to request a contingent of the Wissengaurd to be assigned to Brennenburg for a short time, until we can determine what the next few days will bring.”
“I have a cohort of men with me at present; I can send word to my father and request more of my brethren if you wish?”
“Yes, please,” Gerhard asked lowering his head, showing respect to the young knight. The Wissengaurd were a completely autonomous order of the state, and even though they were sworn to protect Wissenland, it was up to the Grand Master to decide where his order was most needed.
“Felix, I’ll need you to coordinate with Aloisi. Organize the militia and ready the regulars. Double the watch and shore up any problems that may be present. If you need any help, anything that I can be of assistance with, do not hesitate to ask,” Gerhard stated with earnestness.
“As you wish,” answered Kaltenbach as he started to settle down. He was quite arrogant at times, but once orders were assigned, he was very good at carrying them out, even if he did not like who was giving the orders. “I’ll report to you as soon as I have all of the information.”
“Vera, I know nothing of magic but if you need assistance from your order, please send word to Wissenburg requesting assistance.”
“I shall do so immediately,” she replied. “It would be foolish not to in this instance, I think.”
“I as well, but you know the winds more than I,” he stated nodding to her as she left.
“Lector, if I could ask for your prayers as we prepare. Werner, your brother warrior priests will undoubtedly be invaluable when the time comes.” The two nodded their approval, feeling pride as they saw the greatness of the Olenbay line coming out of the young Gerhard. “Lukas, let the rest of the gentry know of the possible threat. I’m sure that you, as well as they, would like to gather up your stores and secure them. I suggest bringing them within the walls of the town.”
“What if it is all eaten?” Manstrom was still more worried about his holdings above all things.
“They will be in the town storehouses, no one will eat them,” he said reassuring the gentryman. “Altman, Willi see to your people, make sure they are not heading upstream for any reason. You may all leave,” he said as he looked over to Grunri finally. The remnants of the council left, Altman Gunnar fuming as he lead Waldschmidt out of the room, berating the man as he went. “Grunri, I know your people came to our lands to avoid conflict, but we will need your help if the orcs attack.”
“Aye, that ye will,” responded the aged dwarf as he stroked his long white beard. “There be some things that never change though, friend. An’ one of them be tha’ you can neva take the fight outta dwarfs. As me said before, where we needed, we be.”
The aged dwarf hobbled out of the chamber, leaving only Gerhard and Sebastian. The Graf sat back into his chair and sighed heavily. “See to your men, Sebastian,” Gerhard started, knowing his friend was enquiring on his role. “See they are ready for battle, but make sure they are well rested,” he stopped for a moment, started, and then stopped again. His thoughts were starting to sink into the abyss of ‘what if’s’ and ‘worst case scenarios’ like they always had. He closed his eyes and again deeply exhaled, flushing the thoughts from his mind. “Never mind, then,” he stated opening his eyes. “I need to let the people know of the impending threat. I am assured that they know something is not right, but it is best to ease their minds as best I can,” he pushed himself out of his chair and began to exit. “I will see you soon, Seby,” he spoke softly as he exited the room.
Gerhard made his way to the main entrance of the keep to where a balcony overlooked the courtyard. He exited the old keep and was nearly blinded by the bright light of the sun. It was such a contrast that it took a moment to focus his eyes, but they soon adjusted bringing the full wonder of the landscape to view. The sky was clear blue and the green landscape contrasted beautifully against the dark backdrop of the mountains in the distance.
Gerhard’s trance was broken as cheers arose from down in the courtyard. His personal guard noticed that he had exited and began chants of “Hoozah!” The Graf waved down to his men, looking on them with pride and affection. He had grown in the ranks with some of those men, and many others fought alongside his grandfather in battle. Sebastian exited the keep behind Gerhard, slapped him on the back and jaunted down the stairs to inspect his men.
“Attention!” the first sergeant screamed as Sebastian jumped the last few stairs landing easily on his feet. The men ceased their applause immediately and formed ranks. As Sebastian walked through the files Gerhard looked again to the sky and his heart began to ache. He realized the sacrifice that some of these men, many his friends, would have to make in the coming days. He closed his eyes and began to pray, “Lord Sigmar, please be with me in the coming days. Give me strength and courage to lead my people and keep us safe.” He opened his eyes and reentered the keep at a fast pace.
“Steward!” he shouted loudly. A young boy of no more than fourteen approached quickly from a side room.
“Yes, sire?” he inquired bowing.
“Jakob, it is good to see you. How is your mother?”
“Fine, sire,” he said nervously.
“Excellent,” Gerhard placed his hand on the boys shoulder, reassuring him. “Find me Eric.”
“Yes, sire,” the boy exited quickly.
“Oh, and bring my maps to the council chamber!” The young boy, came right back darting past Gerhard to find the maps. “And let anyone that inquires know that is where I’ll be.”
Upon entering the council chamber, Gerhard processed the room quickly, realizing there was not enough light. He took a candle from one of it’s holders and began lighting other candles around the room. Slowly, the room began to brighten.
“Sire,” said a voice hastily. “You should not be doing that,” another young man entered the room seizing the candle from Gerhard’s hand. “That is my responsibility, I apologize.”
“There is no need to apologize, Eric,” stated Gerhard. “I thought I would help out,” he said smiling as he sat in his seat. “I am glad you are here. I need you to coordinate with Lector Mann, let the people know of the threat we face. Get everyone in the surrounding area within the walls. We make our stand here.”
“As you wish m’lord,” Eric bowed as he finished lighting every candle in the room. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he questioned.
“No, no. I am fine. Thank you for your help,” Eric left the room as Jakob entered, many maps in hand. He placed them before Gerhard and exited again quickly, bringing a tray of fine ale, made from Bugman’s Brewery. It was quite strong, but in times like this Gerhard needed a nip or two to strengthen his nerve.
“Thank you, Jakob,” the Graf stated mindlessly as he was flipping through the maps. He found what he was looking for and pulled it on top, as young Jakob left the room.
“Agbetten is here,” he mumbled. “He sat there and muttered and stammered, having a conversation with no one but himself trying to determine what the likely scenarios would be.
“Sire,” a voice whispered quietly from behind Gerhard.
“Yes?”
Lector Mann walked slowly into the room out of the darkness of the hallway, as he entered he leaned quite heavily upon a crooked cane. Gerhard turned to see the old man, and he quickly stood, finally realizing who it was. The elderly priest placed his hand on Gerhard’s shoulder as he stood; nodding to him that it was alright to stay seated. The Lector shifted the seat to the left of Gerhard and sat heavily, exhaling as if in some pain as he eased into a comfortable state.
“Are you alright, sir?” asked Olenbay sincerely.
“Oh, yes my child,” he replied sitting up slightly, laying his cane on the table. “Excuse my interruption,” Gerhard nodded to show that he did not mind. “I am sure you are curious as to why I returned?”
“Indeed,” Gerhard stated, leaning forward onto the maps in front of him. “I sent Eric, to look for you.”
“Yes, well…we will attend to those matters soon enough,” he responded quickly. “I know that there is much on your mind at this hour and I know that your fears still revisit you quite often.” Gerhard sat back, somewhat surprised at what the Lector was saying. “It is alright, Gerhard, I assure you. I have seen you in the early morning hours, how you pace upon the ramparts. It has been some time since you presented your worries to me, but I remember how troubled you were,” he paused momentarily to gather his thoughts as Gerhard shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“I have known your family for a long time, lad, and I thank Sigmar daily that your grandparents rescued you from your parents,” he sneered as the words crossed his lips. “There has been much turmoil in your young life, as there is in everyone’s,” he added. You have been trained from birth for this moment, however. Whether you realize it or not, you have the skills to lead your people. All you need is the confidence, and I have confidence in you!” Lothar Mann slammed his palm onto the table to add emphasis. “Now, pardon my frankness, but stop doubting yourself because you aggravate people greatly,” he declared slyly with a smile.
Gerhard laughed loudly at this comment, and pounded his own fist onto the maps in front of him. He knew what Lothar said was true, especially about his constant doubt and how it undoubtedly annoyed everyone around him.
“Thank you my friend,” Gerhard said warmly.
The old man, closed his eyes and nodded slightly with a smile stretched across his face. He took the cane from the table and forced himself up out of the chair, again urging Gerhard to stay seated. “Now my young, Gerhard, I will leave you to your work.”
Lothar left the room, limping from the shattered leg that never fully recovered from a battle long ago. Gerhard leaned back into his chair, taking to heart what the Lector had said. It was just the boost he needed at a time like this, he thought, thanking Sigmar as well that his fate did not diverge at any moment.
He thought back onto his childhood, how he overheard his parents discussing the overthrow of his grandfather, and how his father was killed during the coup attempt. His mother was exiled under pain of death, and presumably resides somewhere in Nuln, undoubtedly in the court of the Countess von Liebewitz. That was always a concern it seemed, that she would muster enough strength or turn the ear of the Countess and make a move to what she feels is rightfully hers. It pained Gerhard to think of it all, old wounds reopening almost. He shook it off, again taking heart of the words Lector Mann said to him.
As the Graf sat in his seat, contemplating what task he next needed to attend to, young Jakob entered the room slowly. “Sire.”
“Yes, Jakob?”
“Representatives from Brogsdorf, Honstein, and Lorindinger are here and ask for an audience with you.”
“Of course,” stated Gerhard matter of factly. “I had a feeling they’d show up,” he muttered to himself as he stood to welcome his guests.
Jakob left and soon returned, followed by three men. These men represented the independent villages surrounding Brennenburg. At one point, Brennenburg’s control stretched out many leagues and encompassed several hamlets and villages. This developed during and after the reign of Wolfgard, but the leadership had been lacking for so long these settlements managed to wrestle away from the grasp of Brennenburger control. In the last few decades the tensions have subsided, as at one point there were quite a few skirmishes between the two sides. Time heals all wounds however, as well does a strong military presence in the face of impending doom.
“Good day, gentleman,” Gerhard began as the men entered into the room. “What is it that has brought you here today?”
“Good day, sire,” started one of the men. “I am Ludwig Rolstein of Lorindinger, this is Gareth Hans, and Edmon von Honstein…and we seek your help.”
“I would be honored, if we actually are able to help that is,” he stated not wanting to show weakness and give in too quickly. “Please, have a seat,” he urged them to make themselves comfortable as he himself began to sit.
“As you are undoubtedly aware, sire,” started Edmon. “There is an orc invasion force heading in this direction.”
“Oh, really,” Gerhard began; he rested his chin upon his fist as he leaned into the table. “I wasn’t quite aware of this,” he retorted smartly, his words slightly muffled as his fist pushed into his jaw. Normally, Gerhard was not this sarcastic with men he did not know, but the long standing feud that had developed still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Yes, my lord,” spoke Gareth. “We know of the strained relations that have persisted between our houses,” the man stammered a bit. “But we ask if it would be possible,” he paused and stammered, wrestling with what he was about to ask.
“We ask if you would grant the independent villages sanctuary,” Ludwig said it more as a statement than a question, hoping that his bold front would coax Gerhard into doing as they wished.
The Graf Olenbay did not flinch, just continued to stare at the men while lounging against his pedestal fist. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Gerhard began.
“There has been a history of tension between us, Brennenburg and the independent villages that is,” Gerhard chimed in the last part to ease the men. “However, I cannot under good conscience leave your villages to fend for themselves. Tell your council that I will grant sanctuary,” the three men showed their bliss and whispered thanks to Sigmar.
“However,” Gerhard slowly began, leaning forward onto his arms which he then folded. “I do expect these villages to provide able bodied men in the defense of Brennenburg.”
The men looked at each other and nodded, thinking the conditions would have been worse. Gerhard stood and gave pleasantries to give to the council and the men left. He then stood and rubbed his chin and thought for a moment.
“That wasn’t very demanding,” Sebastian entered as soon as the delegates left.
“Did you hear that?”
“Aye, m’lord,” Sebastian replied unashamedly. “I passed by at the end of the conversation.”
“I think I was too easy on them, I could have pressed my claim on their lands,” he slammed his fist into the table shaking his head. “Oh well, needn’t worry about that now, I have ideas on that issue. We shall worry about the manner another day.”
“Indeed,” Sebastian replied stoically. “Our scouts have returned,” his words were crisp and to the point.
“Already,” Gerhard questioned with some fear in his voice.
“Aye, m’lord,” Sebastian hurried to explain why they had returned so quickly. “They encountered refugees fleeing from Londheim. The town has been sacked and the horde is within a day’s march of here, depending on the speed in which they move.”
“That is less time than I thought we had,” Gerhard said as he rubbed his chin again. “Intercept the representatives from the independent villages and tell them the situation,” he paused thinking of the action he needed to take. “Get Jakob, I need to talk to Aloisi and Kaltenbach.”
“Find Kaltenbach and Unterschmidt!” screamed Sebastian with his arms crossed, knowing Jakob would hear. “I will do as you say m’lord. Now is not the time, this I know, but after you speak with your marshals, I suggest you get some rest before the ensuing fight.”
“Sebastian, now is not the time for that,” retorted Gerhard somewhat frustrated.
“Aye, m’lord,” Sebastian paused for a moment. “Do not have me tell Isolde.”
“Alright, I will get some rest,” Gerhard laughed. “After I attend to matters that need attending to!”
Sebastian laughed heartily. “As I would expect it to be m’lord.”
Gerhard returned to his maps, calling his personal guardsman over to look at what he was pondering.
“Londheim,” pointed Gerhard as he looked up at his larger friend. “There are no good crossing points from there to here. They either have to backtrack up river and cross back by Rhodersdorf or come at us and try to cross.”
“Aye, this is probably the more likely option if they are to travel downstream,” Sebastian stated with his arms still crossed. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll divert from their current path,” he smiled.
“It is a possibility,” Gerhard asserted slowly. “But it is quite likely that they will stay on this path. They have already sacked two fairly substantial settlements. It is unlikely that they will double back, however. They have more than likely gutted the landscape, leaving them nothing to live off of and slowing their progress. Rhodersdorf is out of the question.”
Sebastian shook his head in agreement. “I don’t see it being as easy as them trying to cross at our ferry, unfortunately,” he grinned. “That would make it too easy, eh old friend?”
Gerhard began to crack a smile himself at the thought of it being that simple. Kaltenbach and Unterschmidt arrived outside of the council chamber amidst the laughter.
“Felix, Aloisi,” Gerhard greeted his marshals. The two saluted their lord and Gerhard followed suit. “Gentleman, ready your men. We should be receiving refugees soon from Londheim. Equip those that can fight, hold them in reserve along with those from the independent villages and form them into their own units.”
“Felix,” he turned to his prideful senior commander. “Deploy your men along the northern and eastern walls. Aloisi, you take the west and south walls. I think that the most likely course for the orcs is to continue downstream. Finding our location they try to cross somewhere down the line. What do you think?” He opened the floor up to get other fresh perspectives from his generals.
“We shouldn’t let our guards down,” began Aloisi. “The Averlanders let down their’s against the beasts at the last battle in Blackfire Pass and it cost them Count Leitdorf’s life,” he paused for a moment as Kaltenbach sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. “They may catch wind of our location and cross at another point, even though it is more dangerous and hit us from another side.”
“Either way,” Kaltenbach shot back somewhat rudely. “We have open ground for at least a league in every direction with rivers on two sides; we will have enough time to strengthen our position if pressed.”
“Unless they attack at night when we cannot see,” countered Aloisi. “I do believe we can counter wherever they hit from, but let us keep our guard up at all points.”
Gerhard nodded in agreement.
“Alright, then,” the Graf began. “Deploy your men as you see fit. Keep the militia ready but off the ramparts. I will keep Sebastian’s men as shock troops. The greenskins will be here sooner than we probably would like. Have your men rested, but in position to man the walls in a moment’s notice. Do you have any questions?”
“No, my lord,” they both said in near unison. Felix Kaltenbach did not show it but he wanted to say something to be contrary to his lord, but his cantankerous personality would not overide his professionalism. Both he and Unterschmidt agreed with the plan of action and knew if anything were to change that they had the Graf’s ear.
The two marshals left the room, again saluting Gerhard, and he in turn saluting them. The Graf thumbed through the maps on the table, flipping them over to look at another and then another, and yet another.
“Now m’lord,” Sebastian initiated in a quiet tone. “Take your own advice, get some rest.” Gerhard stopped thumbing through the maps and barely moved his head, he was about to argue with his friend when Seby reapplied himself. “Sire, if we need you, we’ll get you. Please sir, get some rest.”
Gerhard dropped the maps and accepted the guidance of his guardsman. “I cannot argue with my own advice,” he retorted impishly as he retired to his chamber.
“How was it that this happened?”
“Well, m’lord. You haven’t slept in nearly a week, what did you expect?”
“Sebastian,” replied Gerhard somewhat exasperated. “I slept for nearly an entire day. I told you to wake me.”
“Sire,” Sebastian began in defense. “You stated to wake you if you were needed. There was no need to awake you, your orders were being carried out and nothing had transpired that needed your attention.” He quieted down, folding his arms across his chest in his traditional stance. “Besides, I was about to come get you,” he smiled wryly.
“It was a good thing you were too,” Gerhard snapped, not happy at all with the situation. “You are lucky the orcs are dragging their feet in this matter. I could see myself now. Going down in history as the Graf that slept while his lands were beset by greenskins,” his body writhed in what looked like cold shivers. “I hate to think about it.”
Sebastian stood silently, yet smiling, next to his lord. There they stood upon the ramparts above the gatehouse yet again. Same as every morning, yet this time it was not morning due to Gerhard’s exhaustion. He had worried so much over the last week he could not rest. Fortunately at this juncture, his exhaustion was so great he slept well and now felt invigorated and ready to face the threat ahead.
“Sire,” a runner hurried up through the bowels of the gatehouse trying to find Gerhard. He managed his way up and stumbled upon the top step in front of the two men. Sebastian grabbed the messenger by the crook of his elbow and lifted him with ease.
“Thank you sir,” gasped the runner as he stood to attention in front of Gerhard. “Sire, scouts report that the horde is approaching the edge of the wood.”
“Very well, thank you,” Gerhard stated as he gestured for the runner to resume his duties. “We still have some time for final preparations. It will be a while for the horde to assemble their forces in any sembla…”
“Sire, there from the woods!” Sebestian bolted to the edge of the rampart and looked out with his lord following closely. “Wolf riders!”
“Sigmar’s word,” answered the Graf as he saw a small band of horsemen bounding out of the forest. They were little specks, but they could be made out by the naked eye atop the great walls of the town. It was clear that they were apart of the scouting force sent out in that direction to foretell of any danger. Behind them in hot pursuit was a large group of goblin wolf riders, nipping at the heels of the fleeing men. “Crossbows!” Gerhard shouted, soon answered by a platoon of men rushing up stairs.
“I don’t think they’re going to make it,” stated Sebastian somewhat dejected as he waved to the crossbowmen to take up positions.
Others looked on as the wolf riders began to overtake the men. It was still too far for the crossbowmen to do anything, all they could do was watch. Anger swelled inside Gerhard as he saw brave men being run down by the wolves. He looked down the ramparts and saw a gun crew for one of the cannons looking on in amazement and bellowed, “Ready that gun!”
The men sprang into action, sited the gun quickly and touched off the powder with a gigantic roar. A huge cloud of smoke enveloped the area as the solid shot ripped through the air towards it’s target. As the remaining horsemen hurtled along, the ball rocketed over their heads bouncing shortly behind them and into the swarm of wolf riders. The gigantic beasts yelped loudly as the ball smashed through their hides, toppling but a few of them. One or two of the creatures began to run, which was all Gerhard could have hoped for, but it was not enough. The majority of the wolves continued on.
The screams of the scouts could now be heard as the wolves bounded around them, knocking them from their frightened mounts. The scouts were doing all they could to fight off the gibbering pack but were quickly running out of arrows.
“Crossbows ready!” Shouted Gerhard, awaiting the right moment to give the command. His troops lifted their weapons at an arc to get the maximum range and released a volley as Gerhard gave the order, “Loose!”
The bolts landed in the pack of wolf riders, toppling several of the beasts. Loud yelps of pain arose from the field in front of the walls as wooden shafts with red and black fletching protruded from the wolves and goblins. A handful of men continued onward towards the gate of the city as the wolf riders called off the attack and began fleeing from the scene.
“Keep on them boys,” roared Gerhard. “Do not let them get away!”
The crossbowmen loosed one more volley as the wolf riders quickly exited the field. The wolves ran too quickly for the second volley to do any damage and the action ceased as the wolves scurried off into the woods with their tales between their legs. Gerhard looked down as the scouts passed into the gatehouse underneath, only two made it back from the original scouting force of ten. Gerhard shook his head as he looked out onto the field before him.
“Recall the rest of the scouts,” he began turning to Sebastian. “And send a party to recover the wounded.”
Gerhard returned to his keep, dawning his full armor. He still had not gotten used to wearing it, even after two years. Growing up in the spear regiment did not allow for such armor.
Gerhard thought back and was glad his grandfather was a bit unorthodox in the way he raised him, teaching him the ways of war from the soldier’s perspective. Most young nobleman would be treated to the elite corps of pistoliers that were all the rage in more ‘civilized’ lands. In these lands pistoliers were uncommon however. Instead of sending his beloved grandson away to Wissenburg or Nuln for training, he kept him under his watchful eye in Brennenburg.
Gerhard moved from side to side feeling out the range of motion he had with his armor. An attendant helped him strap the pieces where he could not reach. Sebastian, already adorned in his plate armor stood at the entrance of the room leaning upon one side of the archway.
“The wounded scouts were recovered with little trouble,” stated Sebastian. “The detail was lead by Captain Schaumer of the 2nd Regiment. He lead half of his unit accompanied by a detachment of crossbowmen. Three were alive, two of them barely, the rest dead.”
Gerhard said nothing as he pulled heavy leather gloves over his hands. He stretched his fingers out so they fit nicely into the hardy gauntlet.
“Fetch me my sword,” Gerhard asked his attendant then moved to reanalyze the maps. “I just sent messengers out to inform Wissenburg of the threat. They will head to Pfeildorf first, hopefully an army assembles as we speak.”
“Hopefully we won’t need them,” responded Sebastian.
“I hope not as well,” Gerhard smirked. “But I shant chance it.”
The attendant returned with the Graf’s sword in hand. Gerhard lifted his arms as the servant latched the belt around his waist. He tugged upon the hilt of the sword making sure it was secure and thanked his attendant for the help. As he secured his scabbard, he drew his sword, admiring the craftsmanship. There was a slight glow to the steel as Gerhard looked upon it. His veins coursing with strength as his fingers grasped the ancient weapon of his House. His eyes turned away from his weapon as he sheathed it. “Come Sebastian, let us take our place upon the walls.”
The sun was setting, and the orcs began beating their drums of war. Gerhard called his marshals together for one last overview before the battle was to commence. They all met at the base of the main gatehouse, Gerhard’s favored place.
“It seems as though you were right Aloisi,” commented Kaltenach flippantly. “Looks as though I owe you my sword.”
“Keep it,” responded the young marshall with a huge grin. “I never wanted that dull blade anyway. Besides you’ll need it before the night is out.”
“Alright,” Gerhard started as Kaltenbach muffed from the slight insult. “The orcs are just now assembling their lines. They are going to try and take us quickly, test our defenses early and see if they can work an advantage. Let’s not give them one. We go according to plan, if there are any holes in your lines fill them up with your reserves. I want the militia out of this as long as possible, at least for tonight. The dwarfs and Sebastian are there if you need help. Do not get to confident and let your lines get thin,” Gerhard looked towards Kaltenbach as he finished. “Any questions?”
The men all shook their heads as Gerhard dismissed them. Unterschmidt and Kaltenbach shook hands as they parted, leaving Sebastian and Gerhard.
“Post your men here, I will be up there,” he stated pointing to the ramparts above. “Do not try and argue,” he cut Sebastian off before he could start. “You may accompany me if you wish. I will be where my men can see me, I’m no good hiding in my keep.”
Sebastian began to roll his eyes as he saluted his lord, but stopped. “I shall accompany you, and keep you out of trouble,” Sebastian muttered. “Will not be the first time I’ve saved your backside.”
“That’s why I pay you for my good man,” Gerhard retorted as he jolted up the gatehouse steps.
“Stay here men,” Sebastian bellowed. “You’ll be needed soon enough. Stay sharp and look lively!”
Gerhard looked out from the top of the gatehouse looking eastward. The green tide assembled out of the forest, just out of cannon range. The monsters gathered in mobs, no order really, at least in the Graf’s eyes. The war drums of the orcish horde beat loudly and in increasing pace as grunts and growls echoed across the landscape, their tattered banners waved wildly.
The sun slowly slipped away, surrendering to the night. The glinting steel of the orc blades disappeared as the last glimpse of light faded from the land. Crude horns blew in near unison inciting a gigantic roar from the horde urging them forward.
“Ready the cannons!” shouted Gerhard, as the gun crews made their preparations.
The orcs surged forward, only a silhouette of a large mass was visible at this stage. Gerhard closed his eyes for a moment and muttered a prayer to Sigmar to be with them that night. This fight was an old fight, the ancient foe of Sigmar’s people. Gerhard opened his eyes to see the horde moving quicker now. The beastial rage within the greenskins could not be contained any further. They broke into a sprint and headed straight for the walls.
“Looks as though they’re not even using siege equipment,” stated Sebastian as he stood behind his lord.
“Requires too much time,” Gerhard replied as the horde slowed slightly. They pushed and fought against each other for the glory of being the first to the walls. “I figured they would try and take us quickly. Fortunately for us they like to fight so much sometimes they do not care if it is with each other.”
Sebastian laughed, always loving the sight of orcs fighting amongst one another prior to engagement. “I never tire of seeing that,” he snorted.
The horde was becoming harder to see with the sun’s light further slipping away, the twin moons had not yet risen. Gerhard judged that the cannons would be effective soon and gave the order, “Make ready! FIRE!”
All along the eastern wall gun captains barked out final orders and gave their crews the order to open up. The wall shook as every cannon fired simultaneously. If not for the dwarfen skill during construction, the wall may have toppled. Grunri was smiling somewhere Gerhard thought to himself.
The flash from the muzzles lit up the landscape momentarily and revealed the orcs progress. Still not in crossbow range. The gun crews worked hurriedly to reload and down the line a cannon touched off, soon followed by another, than another. Gerhard paced upon the gatehouse ramparts awaiting the next phase. The orcs continued to roar forward as the cannons cut holes in their ranks.
“Crossbows ready!” Gerhard shouted as he continued to pace. The nervousness that always accompanied him in this phase of battle was very evident in his stride. The orcs crossed into range of the crossbows and Gerhard gave the order. At that range not much could be hoped for, but it was best to take down as many as early as possible. The crossbowmen began to fire at will unleashing volley after volley upon the advancing tide. Death thralls could be heard as the power of the bolts began to strike their targets.
“Grapeshot,” came a cry from a gunner down the line.
“Only moments now,” stated Gerhard. “Brace the gate!”
The cannon crews continued to fire, spewing rounds of metal over the field in front of them. As the light flashed all around from the muzzles, gaps began to form in the orcish line from the grapeshot. Horrible sounds of pain clamored from below as the orcs were now in short range. They died in droves, from the withering fire.
Like a wave upon rocks the orcs crashed against the thick doors below Gerhard. They lunged their shoulders upon the doors as the men on the other side braced for impact. As a response boiling cauldrons of oil were tipped over melting the flesh of the beasts on the other end. The greenskins bellowed with pain as they collapsed, their comrades swarming over them continuing the attack. Crossbow bolts continued to reign down upon the orcs as the cannons were silenced, the orcs now underneath the guns.
Rickety ladders were thrown upon the wall. The men of Brennenburg rushed forward and began pushing the ladders back. Gerhard moved up and down the lines shouting out encouragement to his men. The orcs were pushing hard, but their lack of capable siege equipment helped the Brennenburgers’ immensely.
The orcs were beginning to put many ladders upon the wall, too many to counter all at once. They planted a ladder a section down from where Graf Olenbay stood and began to establish a foothold. Orcs began flooding up the ladder as a couple cleared out a path, slicing and hacking every man that stood in their way. Gerhard was alerted to the situation but did not worry, he pointed towards the breach and Sebastian drew his sword and launched toward the threat.
A hail of arrows sailed in the direction of the foothold and several orcs were felled as a group of local huntsman from the ground sent a volley towards the threat. This gave the defenders in that section enough time to recover and stabbed their way through the few orcs that remained. With Sebastian’s help they shoved the ladder back unto the attackers.
The greenskins tried to destroy the gate, the weakest point of the defenses, but every instance they gained an advantage more boiling oil was released upon them. The smell of boiling orc flesh was starting to fill Gerhard’s nose. It was a sickening smell. He would almost have pity on the beasts if it were not for the fact that they would kill all in the town for the pure joy of it.
“Keep it up men,” he shouted as the cannon crews around him were now hurtling rocks from the ramparts. “They won’t have much left in them at this rate!”
The attack slowly began to die off, the ladders arriving with less frequency and the assaults with less ferocity. The banging below the gatehouse soon ceased and the sounds of the orcs retreating could be heard through the darkness.
Another order of grapeshot was ordered by the nearest gun captain followed by a chorus of cannon blasts. Squeals of pain were the reply from below. The cannons fell quiet as the order of ‘cease fire’ went out down the line. The men cheered as the orcs could be seen retreating, the glow of the twin moons now shining in the night like Myrmidia’s smile.
“They may attempt to attack from other sides before the night is out,” Gerhard stated to Sebastian as her returned to his lord. “But I think those beasts will realize quickly that we will not be pushed over without a fight.”
“Aye m’lord,” Sebastian replied sheathing his sword.
“I hope the messengers got through to Wissenburg, Seby,” Gerhard began. “After tonight, I believe we will be sealed up for some time.”
The initial assault upon Brennenburg left little damage to the town or the defenders inside. If anything it gave the defenders a morale boost. Reports had been coming in for some time of a massive horde that was nigh unstoppable. Even though the greenskins did not attack in full force it was perceived as a victory, no matter how minor.
After the assault, the regiments stationed upon the walls were on full alert. It was thought that the greenskins would not again attack until morning, but the men were already excited from the engagement. The attack by the greenskins came too scattered. Coupled with the lack of siege equipment, it made for a quick and fruitless assailment.
The men who guarded the door reinforced the buttresses and piled wood and stone behind to reinforce the structure. Behind that, quickly assembled redoubts were constructed with a cannon fortified to offer a nasty surprise to any creature that found itself inside the town. As the night turned into day the defenders could be found scampering about hurriedly, continuing to strengthen the city further. The men worked in shifts, mainly the town militia as the regular soldiers were resting for the coming fight.
As Gerhard trotted around the redoubts talking with some of the militia men of improvements to be made for the defense, a horn atop the south wall erupted signaling the advance of the orcs. Gerhard spurred his charger in the direction of the call. ‘The orcs must be trying to take us by surprise,’ he thought as he rode quickly. “The daylight should help them coordinate their attack better,” he muttered to himself as he again spurred his horse on faster through the winding streets of the town.
While he raced closer to the wall to assess the threat, the cannons on the wall opened fire. The threat was closing, but still at some distance judging by the long reach the cannons possessed. Gerhard pulled harshly on the reigns of his horse as he approached the wall, the large animal rearing up onto it’s back legs as it halted quickly. One of the militiamen nearby approached hurriedly, grabbing the reigns and gave a salute to Gerhard as he leapt from his horse. Gerhard noticed the young age of the boy who had, most likely, days before been tending the fields. Gerhard gave a quick salute in return and bolted up the stairs unto the ramparts. “I pray we will not need you lad,” he whispered as he reached the battlements and looked out across the open grounds to see the bellowing greenskin advance.
“Sire,” Captain Eomund Schaumer approached saluting his young lord.
“Captain,” Gerhard returned the salute.
“Sire, the greenskins will press harder I think. They will be able to see now, and they’re probably angry from last night’s showing.” The greenskins seemed to reply to the battle scarred veteran, their feral cries growing louder as they closed in.
“I agree Captain,” replied the Graf. “Keep your men low and when the time is ready, throw back these monsters.”
“Yes, my lord!”
Gerhard turned and headed towards the nearest tower to get a better view of the situation. The cannons continued their rate of fire and cut huge holes in the orc lines, yet the beasts still came. Upon reaching the top of the tower, he found Marshal Unterschmidt. Seeing his lord, Aloisi dismissed the men he was speaking with, all rushed to their posts.
“Sire, with your permission,” he began out of respect. “I’d like to join my men on the battlements,” stated the marshal as Gerhard approached.
“Of course, Aloisi,” Gerhard responded. “Sigmar be with you today.”
“And you sire.”
Aloisi ran down the stairs, following the path that his men had just taken. Gerhard surveyed the landscape around him. Cannons roaring all about the walls and men yelling at each other for last minute instructions made the scene look chaotic, but all was in order.
This orc WAAAGH! seemed to have no discipline, no structure. This assault was reminiscent of the previous, a tide of green rushing towards the wall. Gerhard could not believe that it would be so easy for too long and was comforted in that the simple tactics of the orcs would offer an advantage for his men.
In the distance a spark of light flashed brightly from within the trees. It was an odd glow, and suddenly disappeared. Gerhard looked to his left and saw Vera atop another tower waving her arms and looking skyward. He just shook his head and smiled. The arts of magic never made sense to him, but he was glad to know that he had help in the matter.
The rattling of handgun fire ripped his attention from the sorceress and back to the action. Orcs fell by the dozens as the handgunners reloaded to the jeers of crossbowmen who stepped up to take their turn on the firing line. The orcs closed in, cannons again firing grapeshot and causing tremendous casualties to the wailing creatures.
“That’s it lads, pour it on!” Shouted Gerhard in encouragement to his men.
The battlefield was becoming littered with green bodies, but the orcs kept coming and rushed upon the walls of Brennenburg. Ladders were thrown up hastily, allowing for muscled greenskins to scamper up the shaky structures. Aloisi’s men reacted swiftly and began to push the orcs back. The going would be much tougher for the greenskins at this angle, there was no gate to enter from, so the only way in was over the top. Gerhard smiled wickedly knowing this.
Suddenly, out of the corner of Gerhard’s eye came a flurry of specs. Not seeing what was approaching; men of the 4th Regiment to the left of Gerhard were struck down by the objects that hurtled into them.
“Goblins,” Gerhard spat through clenched teeth.
They were doom divers to be more specific. There had been rumors of these contraptions, but the men of Brennenburg had yet to face such things. Goblinoids were of lesser value, at least to orcs, and expendable. The torrent repeatedly came upon the men. The volley of goblins quickly subsided, few survived the attack but it gave enough of a respite for the lead elements of the orc assault to leap over the battlements.
Gerhard looked on as spearmen from the 4th regiment were pushed back. Orcs with crude weapons slashed and chopped and sent blood curdling screams into the Brennenburg sky. He leaned onto the battlements, looked down onto reserve forces watching in disbelief as to what was happening.
“Move it!” Gerhard bellowed. “Send those beasts into the forest!”
The men let out a mighty cry as they rushed up the stairs to reinforce their brothers. The battle was becoming frantic as crossbowmen were firing point blank into the greenskins. Large piles of bodies amassed onto the battlements, slowing the tide of the orcish advance. The brutes clawed and stumbled over their fallen comrades’ bodies to press their slight advantage, the sheer will of their effort holding off the Brennenburgers until reinforcements could arrive. They quickly did, more ladders thrust upon the wall in areas of easier access.
Looking over to his right, Gerhard saw Aloisi commanding the action upon the ramparts. The situation in that section was going well, the men repelling the orcs with ease. Gerhard drew his sword and began down the steps of the tower. He had seen enough of the carnage and by Sigmar’s hand he would not stand by as his men were ruthlessly killed!
Moving through the passageway that spiraled down, Gerhard’s heart began pounding quickly and with more urgency. His brow began to sweat from the nervousness that began to sweep over him. The bellowing of the orcs mixed with shouting from men echoed into the stairwell. As Gerhard turned the corner he made the sign of the hammer and rushed out onto the ramparts thrusting his sword into the back of the nearest greenskin. The orc screeched with pain as the blade punctured it’s skin and toppled into the town below.
“Stand firm men!” yelled the Graf, assuring his men he was with them.
Two orcs turned after slaying a crossbowman, now realizing that another human had come to challenge them. They roared and charged at Gerhard, brandishing their rusty blades wildly. A hail of crossbow bolts cut them down from above, the men in the tower aiding their lord before the orc attack could hit home.
“Brennenburg!” echoed his battle cry as the two beasts fell in front of him. He leapt over the creatures and with both hands upon his sword decapitated another with one swift motion. A small area had been cleared out, but the ramparts were crowded with orcs and humans battling for supremacy.
Gerhard quickly surveyed the situation and picked up a shield that was lying next to a dead spearman. He said a quick prayer to Morr for the man as he slid his left arm into the straps to hold it. An orc dove at him, seeing his vulnerable position, but Gerhard pulled his shield up in time to deflect the blow. Quickly he swung his sword around slicing through the leg of the creature, as it fell he jumped to his feet and stabbed into the creatures tiny brain. Another moved towards him rapidly and again Gerhard deflected the blow with his shield and countered with a blade strike to the beast’s chest. Bracing himself and pulling backwards, the sword came out with little trouble.
Seeing a mass of bodies ahead, Gerhard rushed forward with his shield in front and catching an orc by surprise knocked it to the ground. Another Brennenburger thrust his sword into the greenskin, allowing Gerhard to turn hastily and disembowel an orc that just topped the wall. With help from another man, the Graf pushed the ladder off of the wall into the mass of orcs below.
Gerhard continued to push down the line as more men followed in behind him to repel any ladders that were thrust upon the wall. Not realizing that most of their kin were dead behind them, three orcs never saw the Graf Olenbay as he approached, anger in his eyes. With all the might he had, added with the power that coursed through him from his ancient sword, he sliced through the backs of all three creatures, severing their spinal columns in one blow. Seeing their comrades fall to such a smaller foe, several others ran but were skewered upon spears as they turned.
The influx of men from the streets below coupled with Gerhard’s efforts eased the strain upon the defenders of the wall. The orcish numbers were dwindling as more ladders were thrown from the ramparts. Only a handful remained, surrounded and taunting the Brennenburgers to attack. The men poked at the beasts with their spears, keeping them at bay as crossbowmen mixed in began to take shots. The orcs fell as they tried to lash out, several bolts embedded deeply into their hides as they died.
A last push from the horde saw more orcs hurry up ladders as they dashed to put more on the walls than the defenders could handle. A few remained as the orcs rushed over the wall. There were too few points of attack and the orcs were soon overwhelmed at those points. One of the orcs, seeing Gerhard, burst through his assailants and leapt towards Olenbay, high into the air. Gerhard swiped at the greenskin’s exposed sternum and cut the beast in twain, the carcass landing on both sides of the Graf. Ooze and slime covered Gerhard as he wiped his face with his sleeve.
The remnants of the attacking force began to flee back into the direction of the woods. In confusion, some ran off into the Oggel River which spun it’s way around to that side. The men upon the walls laughed heartily as they saw the spectacle of the confusion. The laughter soon died away as the men heard the moans of wounded and dying comrades.
“Good job men,” heaved Gerhard, the adrenaline still coursing through his body. He turned to survey the carnage. Orcs and Brennenburgers strewn atop the ramparts, intertwined in death thralls. He sighed heavily and bowed his head to give thanks to Sigmar for the protection he had given and then another prayer to Morr to accept his brave men into his arms.
The last of the orcs disappeared within the trees. The hordes impetus and bravado allowed for relatively easy victories these two encounters, thought Gerhard. The glory to be the first to kill had overcome any semblance of tactics. The Graf knew this would probably be the last major thrust attempted without siege equipment. He shook his head to himself in realization of this fact but let the thought pass from his mind. That would come soon enough, he now needed to look to his men.
Graf Olenbay walked down the line, checking his men. A number sported injuries that were not severe, but several others had debilitating injuries that would haunt them for the rest of their days. One man had his arm smashed at the elbow; another had a grievous cut to his left leg. Gerhard had the men shifted off the lines immediately, fresh troops taking positions while the dead were carried off.
He slowly moved down the steps, wiping the sweat and gore from his face again. He began to shake as the adrenaline wore off. Realizing he still had his sword in hand, the Graf looked upon the blade that was covered with orc blood. ‘What a mess,’ he thought to himself as he wiped the blood off onto an orc carcass that lay at the foot of the steps. He returned his sword to it’s home as Sebastian ran around the corner.
“M’lord,” Sebastian halted quickly, speaking with some urgency.
“Yes, Seby?”
“The orcs are moving upon the eastern wall again,” he stated as he turned to walk beside Gerhard.
“What?” Gerhard was shocked, he did not think that the orcs would again come so quickly.
“Aye, m’lord,” responded Sebastian calmly. “That must have been why they did not attack us when we expected.”
“They used that extra day to prepare themselves,” Gerhard stammered as he and Sebastian began to sprint towards the threat. “Why weren’t the horns sounded to alert us of the threat?”
“Kaltenbach thought it best if we kept quiet, take the greenskins by surprise,” Sebastian replied in between breaths.
Gerhard kept silent, concentrating his efforts on the sprint. He now wished his horse had not been taken away from the wall, but it was the prudent thing to do at the time. The armor of the two men rattled and clanked as they ran, slowing their efforts.
Kaltenbach and Burkhard Werner paced back and forth upon the eastern battlements. The men crouched low, hiding their presence from the orcs that advanced. Werner could be heard telling stories and reciting prayers to Sigmar as he paced down the line, a huge warhammer slung over his shoulder. Kaltenbach kept quiet, a grim look upon his face as he listened to the warrior priest’s words.
Gerhard’s chest heaved slightly as he and Sebastian made their way past the redoubts and up onto the ramparts. Crouching low and looking out over the field, Gerhard saw the orcs moving at a rapid pace, but very hushed. They were still loud, but it was eerily quiet for orcs. They swarmed forward; ladders could be seen amongst the largest greenskins. In the middle of the horde was a crude log on wheels. It wobbled from the odd shaped wheels that carried it.
The Graf proceeded down the line and meet up with Kaltenbach while Sebastian ran back to his men to be with them when the battle commenced. If they were needed, they would have Sebastian at the lead. Graf Olenbay hunched over slightly as he hurried, whispering encouragement to his men and slapping them on the back.
“Sire,” Kaltenbach began as he saw his lord approach. “What do I owe to the honor of your visit upon my wall.”
“Checking on the status of the situation,” he stated rolling his eyes slightly. “I have every confidence in you Felix, do not worry.”
“Hmm, yes….well,” Kaltenbach looked away as his words faded briefly. “I will wait until these brutes get into short range before I give the command to commence battle,” he started listlessy. “All of my cannons are to direct their fire onto that…thing at the center of their line.”
Gerhard nodded his head as his Marshal continued.
“If we destroy that, they have no other credible threat to our front,” he finished seeming quite pleased with his simple yet brilliant plan.
“Excellent,” responded Gerhard. “Besides your reserve you also have the militia as well as Sebastian and Grunri. Do not hesitate to use them if the need should arise.”
Kaltenbach nodded, a sour look upon his face. Gerhard would have thought the man in a foul mood, if not for the knowledge of his demeanor and the fact that he was always that way.
The Graf moved down towards the gatehouse, the highest point at this end. He surveyed his town, so quiet. All of the people had retreated inwards, around the castle towards the opposite end of town. Luckily for him they were surrounded on two sides by river, the Sol to the north and the Oggel to the west. This narrowed the point of attack by the orcs and meant that his men could concentrate most of their efforts upon just two walls.
He looked down into the immediate courtyard behind the gatehouse. A redoubt was positioned slightly to the side, manned by a few of the town militia. Directly behind them stood Grunri’s dwarfs wielding hammers and axes. A grim bunch they were, but ‘that was their race’ thought Gerhard. He was glad to have them on his side. To the right of the dwarfs stood Gerhard’s personal guard, his banner flapping gently in the breeze. He looked with pride upon his reserves, the best troops he could muster outside of the handful of knights that Karsten could lend. Confident that these troops would hold as they had always done, Gerhard turned towards the oncoming threat.
“Open fire!” Kaltenbach’s voice roared above the silence of the town. In unison the crossbowmen arose and let off a volley that blotted out the sun. The bolts toppled many in the first rank of orcs, but more pressed forward roaring in defiance.
The cannons opened fire one at a time. The first ball whizzed over the heads of the greenskins that pushed the battering ram, the second falling slightly to the left cutting a swathe through the line. The next two landed short but bounced through the ranks, pulverizing the tough hides of the greenskins.
The final shot never occurred as the machine exploded in a loud eruption. Smoke and fire covered the ramparts upon the wall. Men scrambled away, their clothes on fire. Their comrades watched helplessly as they jumped to the streets below and rolled upon the ground. A few of the militia hurried forward to throw their cloaks over the men in an attempt to help. At this distance it was hard to tell the fate of those involved. As the smoke began to clear bodies could be seen strewn about the destroyed weapon, but the wall held with little trouble, save for the crater from the explosion.
Gerhard looked away, and stepping forward gave the men atop the gatehouse final instructions before the orcs hit home.
The artillery barrage had been ineffective and now the gunners scrambled to reload to try and eliminate the greatest threat. The orc line was not able to move as quickly, the massive log ram was slowing them. Out of frustration and impatience the ends of the battle line rushed ahead leaving a gap in the middle.
Bolts continued to fill the air, the crossbowmen firing in two ranks to keep up a constant rate of fire. The noise from the howling beasts in the field along with the communications between the men on the ramparts was growing in ferocity and volume. It was difficult to hear, bestial cries of pain and suffering rang all about.
The cannons again echoed against the orc horde. The first shots did little damage as before, but the third shot smashed through the rear of the crude battering ram. The log splintered in two and shards of wood sprouted from the hide of the accompanying orcs. The beasts bellowed and collapsed in agony as more ran up and began to pull upon the largest remnant of the log.
Gerhard proceeded towards the southern end of the gatehouse and looked around. Realizing the orcs were trying to recover the ram he bellowed out orders. “Concentrate all of your fire upon that battering ram!”
The crossbowmen that heard the command let loose their bolts and dropped a dozen of the monsters. The orcs clutched stalks of the bolts as they fell from the heinous wounds. That was all the time the remaining cannon needed. The crew aiming just right, the target now stationery, let loose a round of solid shot that landed squarely. The remnants of the log shattered into thousands of pieces. A blast radius of several yards germinated with splinters and shards of wood that left a wake of dead orcs in the middle of the swarm.
Not seeing that their main threat was now destroyed, the greenskins on the flanks crashed against the walls, hurling their ladders in another attempt to take the town. Most of the orcs in the center, seeing the futility and remembering the first two attacks turned and scurried back to the confines of the trees. This left the two flanks unsupported, and by the time the realization had occurred, the orcish contingents were stuck into the fray.
Boiling oil washed over the side of the walls, blistering and melting orc flesh. The beasts rolled and howled while their comrades took their place and dashed up the ladders. Without support in the middle the remaining orcs were pelted with flanking fire from the middle. Crossbowmen from the gatehouse section poured in bolts at a frightening pace. The amount of fire that was being put on the orcs resembled a swarm of bees stinging an angry bear.
Unable to muster any credible threat, the remaining orcs abandoned their ladders and began to run in all directions. Some leapt into the Oggel River in confusion, drowning in the attempt, others desperately ran back to the forest. The cannons fired off a round of grapeshot as the beasts ran. The balls ripped through the air and raked the fleeing orcs with a mighty blow. Many fell with multiple iron pellets in their backs, chunks of flesh torn from the bone as their kin ran from the field.
As the last remaining orcs fled from the field, a loud horn echoed from within the trees. Soon a chorus of others rose to the skies, announcing a terrible event.
From out of the western woods stepped a large orc. At this range Gerhard could not make out any details besides the size of the creature. His bodyguard strode up next to him, they themselves quite large but dwarfed by their boss. The orc lifted it’s arms and bellowed loud enough to hush the Imperial troops upon the walls as they scurried about helping their wounded comrades and redressing ranks.
The forests themselves seemed to spread outwardly as a green tide emanated from the bush. Mobs of goblins pushed forward, their evil black banners waving in the breeze. Intermixed between these foul little things were trolls the size of trees. They ambled their way forward in groups of twos and threes. Behind them came a giant that stood twice the size of the trolls. The monstrosity beat it’s chest and roared at the defenders of Brennenburg, pointing it’s club mockingly.
On the southern side drums began to beat signaling another force to show itself. Two siege towers were slowly pushed from the foliage, two trolls manning each. Goblins leapt all around these large ramshackle structures as their bosses smacked at them to form up. The trolls heaved and managed to gain some momentum, the towers becoming easier to move now as they cleared the woods. Behind the front line of gibbering goblins came fierce orcs. These were fewer than had presented themselves before, but they were bigger and stronger than their predecessors.
The defenders of Brennenburg stood silent at this new threat. The orc boss continued to bellow his bestial orders to the tune of WAAAAGH!! The green mob mixed and mashed as the bosses tried to organize the goblins for a massive push.
Gerhard gritted his teeth, sweat dripped from his brow as he saw the menace before him. This was not like anything he had seen yet. This orc cared little for tactics, even less than orcs normally do. He just kept throwing his troops against the walls and letting carnage take place. The Graf saw the horde stretch out across the fields, and looked around at his men. Their eyes were filled with fear at the sight of so many greenskins. Many had never seen a giant before and most had never encountered more than a handful of trolls, and now a full dozen dotted the battlefield.
The orcs grew silent, but a low humming sound came from them as they began to sway back and forth. The grunts became louder and an awkward cadence arose, chanting praises to the primal orc gods.
Gerhard stood at the edge of the ramparts. He laid his hand on the shoulder of one of his men as he prayed to Sigmar, trembling where he stood. Gerhard felt the same fear himself but dared not show it for fear of further disheartening his men.
He patted the man on the back and took a deep breath and began to hum himself. He closed his eyes and let words cross his lips lowly at first to make sure his tone was right. He never considered himself much of a singer, but now was not the time for insecurities.
“My home,” he began slowly and quietly. “My home, my home Wissenland.”
The men around him began to stammer the words, the fear in their eyes subsiding little. Gerhard’s words became clearer and grew in volume with each passing breath.
“From the mountain top, to the river shore, we shall defend thee forevermore. My home, Wissenland.
“In the darkest night or by brightest day, our resolve shall never fade. My home, Wissenland.
“Whether snow may fall or drought may rage, we shall nurture thee as if a babe. My home, Wissenland.
“When the scourge doth come and our hearts may ache we shall defend thee always. My home, Wissenland.”
Gerhard paused for a moment to hear what was taking place. His eyes remained closed this whole time, letting the words settle in his heart. He knew he may have to make the ultimate sacrifice to save his home. He expected silence, not knowing if his men had truly followed his lead. To his surprise he heard a melodious chorus from all that stood in defiance of this greenskin threat.
“My Home! Wissenland,” cried one man as he held the last note as the deep baritone of the chorus chimed in on the last word.
“My Home! Wissenland,” repeated the Brennenburgers.
“My Home! Wissenland.
Sweet Home, Wissenland,” everyone resounded the last line.
Gerhard looked down the lines at the men singing. As they started the song anew, fear began to wash away from their faces and a steely resolve replaced it. He stepped back and closed his eyes listening to the beautiful sound of his men singing in defiance of the orc horde which could now barely be heard.
The orcs let out a loud WAAAGH! that drowned out the signing momentarily. The men continued to sing as the greenskins rushed forward, the boss in the lead with is bodyguard not far behind.
Gerhard took one final look over the ramparts as he assessed the situation. Each commander new what to do, and the priorities in which to fire their cannons. Gerhard’s place was now with his greatswords. He knew that if the orcs breached the wall he would need his best men to counter the threat.
Gerhard strode down the wall at a quick pace. His heart pounded with nervousness and his hand began to shake a little. He looked at it as he made his way down into the courtyard. He stopped for a moment and looked past his hand and thought of his wife, Isolde. He smiled slightly; it had been too long since he had thought of her. She was in the keep along with many other non combatants.
Gerhard sighed. His heart ached at the thought of leaving his beloved. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to erase the image of orcs overrunning the town and him defenseless to protect her. He bit his lower lip, a sudden anger in his eyes as they re-opened. By Sigmar’s will it would not happen, he thought.
“That was a fancy piece of singing,” stated Sebastian as he swaggered over to Gerhard, a broad smile covering his face.
“Oh, shut up,” Gerhard stammered, somewhat embarrassed. “Listen to them,” Gerhard said snapping out of his insecurities. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”
The two stood and listened as the brave men sang the chorus.
“Aye,” Sebastian smiled even wider. “Those brutes don’t know what they’ve gotten themselves into.”
Gerhard nodded and walked past Sebastian, looking upon his elite unit of greatswords. He pulled his gloves tight over his fingers as he looked on, each man standing to attention. The Graf moved down the line and soon came upon Grunri Hammerstrom and his contingent of Dwarfs.
“Good to see you well Master Hammerstrom,” stated Gerhard with a bow. “Your warriors look in fine form.”
“Aye, that they are Gerhard,” responded Grunri. “We’ve been itching for a fight. If those foul grobi breach the walls, they’ll soon regret it.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” the Graf countered. “May your ancestor gods be with you today.”
“And Sigmar with you.”
The two parted ways. Gerhard was glad to have such fine warriors at his side but looked at the numbers, thirty-eight Dwarfs and thirty greatswords. The finest warriors any army could have, but very few against the might of the greenskin horde. If they were to hold they would need to bottleneck the orcs at the gate. Gerhard now wished that Karsten had not left to retrieve more knights. His few knights would have helped immensely.
Cannon fire belched from atop the walls as the horde entered into range. Quickly, cheers erupted from the southern wall, interrupting the melodious singing. The mingled shouts of joy relayed that one of the siege towers had been destroyed.
Gerhard paced back and forth as the cannon fire continued to echo. The men had stopped singing, the thunderous warmachines made any attempt at harmony pointless. Soon the second siege tower was toppled, again to the chorus of cheers.
“We just need to take care of those trolls on the south wall,” stated Gerhard to Sebastian. “With those siege towers disabled they are the only main threat for the cannons.”
“I’m a little worried about that giant I heard about,” Sebastian said with a frown upon his face. “Is it really that big?”
“Aye, Seby,” responded Gerhard as he continued to pace. “It is that big. I cannot imagine the thing reaching the walls though. Our guns should bring it down.”
“Should,” mumbled Sebastian under his breath.
No sooner had he said this than a loud bellow emanated from over the walls. A labored moan soon followed. A short silence followed and then a loud earth shaking bang. A third shout roared from the men who were cheering the gun crews on.
“Must be that giant we were speaking of,” smiled Gerhard wryly as he stopped momentarily.
“Aye, aye,” grumbled the greatsword champion. “Hope they keep this up. Our job will be much easier.”
Gerhard began to pace again as the crossbow sergeants gave the order to loose bolts. The order to concentrate on the trolls was heard above the din, the harsh tone of the command managing to break the roar of the cannons somehow. The rattle of handguns then spattered about the walls, the range of the horde closing further.
The Graf’s heart leapt at the sound of the handguns. Not long now, he thought. The cannon crews quickly switched to grapeshot to cause more damage to the masses that approached, and one volley unloaded before a score of ladders sprung up like a fungus upon the walls. The Brennenburgers moved quickly to counter, unleashing boiling oil and repelling ladders nearly as quickly as they were placed. The elite warriors in the courtyard looked upon the ramparts with great interest. It now looked that the vastness of orcs had given way to goblins. The little things scurried up and were thrown off quickly, few gaining a foot hold. The ones that managed to get across the battlements were quickly slain. The Brennenburgers held nobly and in a professional manner. Pointing and yelling could be seen from a few pockets of soldiers upon the ramparts, they pointed in the direction in front of the gatehouse. The cannons were unable to wheel in time and a hail of crossbow bolts was loosened with a response of a deep snarl.
“Trolls,” gasped Gerhard. “They’re going for the gate!”
Gerhard waved his hands to get the attention of militia units around him. Many of those militiamen were of the independent villages and they looked on warily as the gate creaked and groaned from the onslaught. The reinforced buttresses were helping, but were quickly giving way to the might of the foul trolls. The men atop the gatehouse desperately poured boiling oil down atop the beasts. From where Gerhard was he could not tell the effectiveness of the defensive measures.
The battle raged furiously all around. The men upon the walls held wonderfully, the mass of goblins doing little to penetrate the defenses. Through the shouts of men and the roar of greenskins could be heard grunts and snarls from the trolls. They labored feverishly, pounding continually upon the gate. The thick slab of wood cracked sharply as a large spiked club tore through.
In a single moment, Gerhard unsheathed his sword to the sound of his bodyguard doing the same. The elegant sound of finely crafted steel rung for a brief second.
Another lunge from a troll caused the gap in the gate to increase; one of the buttresses fell to the ground. A unit of huntsmen moved to the side of the greatswords, steadying their bows at the gate. The militia around the flanks shook nervously, each man gripping their weapons with sweat soaked palms.
Gerhard stood slightly ahead of his men, ready for action. The gate splintered, and the door opened slightly, and a troll fell forward with a grotesque yelp. The thing fell dead, it’s head protruding slightly through the door revealing burnt flesh that smoldered from the intensity of the boiled oil. With a sudden burst, two more trolls pushed the doors apart, the remaining supports splintering from the strength of the monsters.
As the two creatures lumbered forward the cannon to the right of Gerhard was touched off sending a round of grapeshot hurtling. The two beasts writhed as they were smacked with large lead rounds, only their silhouettes could be seen due to the bluish smoke. One was killed instantly, several pieces of grapeshot ripping large chunks of it’s head apart while the other was toppled, it’s leg crippled.
The huntsmen loosed a volley as the troll pressed itself up, arrows quickly sprouting from it’s face and neck. It bellowed again, as it began to crawl forward. The militia to the right broke ranks and scattered, the monstrosity’s stench and presence was too much to bear. The huntsmen again aimed their arrows and found their mark upon the troll that began to slow. The beast’s acidic blood dripped from it’s many wounds and it finally collapsed a few feet in front of Gerhard, who stood like a pillar of stone. The blood sizzled and spattered around like grease in a frying pan. The men stood in amazement as Gerhard thrust his sword heavily into the beast’s brain in assurance that the thing was dead.
A goblin quickly emerged from behind the dead monster, and leapt high into the air trying to catch Olenbay off guard. The Graf gracefully dislodged his sword and brought it up quickly and split the goblin in two, the ends sizzling and burning from the troll’s blood.
Gerhard readied himself, both hands on his sword as a swarm of goblins flocked into the funnel. The Dwarfs on his left could not hold back any further. The sight of their most hated foe filled them with rage and they rushed forward with the might of their race. They split goblin heads with their mighty axes and crushed bones with their warhammers. The impetus of the attack sent the goblins reeling and they stammered and ran in any direction. A few dozen ran towards Gerhard and his greatswords in confusion. The huntsmen picked off a few while the greatswords merely stood in place and swatted the creatures as if they were flies.
The Dwarfs continued their pursuit of the goblins, pushing them further out of the gate. It looked as though they would exit the town itself when another troll emerged from behind the wall and leveled it’s club quickly and swiped it across the ground. A handful of Dwarfs were knocked into the wall, allowing enough time for the troll to gain an advantage. The thing swung again quickly and knocked the helmet off of a Dwarf and tried to raise it’s club for a death blow but was stopped by the stonework above it.
Grunri let out a cry in his ancient Dwarfen tongue and heaved his battle ax around splitting the trolls belly open. Acid and digestive juices spilled onto the ground and splattered upon some of the Dwarfs. They turned and shielded their eyes as the acid burnt parts of their flesh. Taken by surprise, the troll stumbled and fell backwards, as it squirmed it’s blood poured from it’s wound. Stench immediately filled the atmosphere and caused many of the remaining militia to wretch.
The brief respite allowed the Dwarfs to gather their wits and reform. They formed a tight wall two ranks deep, a couple of their comrades laid at their feet, dead from the acid of the troll. Grunri roared a challenge to the goblins that began to reenter the breech and the Dwarfs entered the fray once more, an impassable wall of steel that stood where a wooden one should have been.
Gerhard stood in amazement at the ferocity of the Dwarf warriors. They gave their foes no quarter and slaughtered them by the dozens. Only from the weight of the goblin numbers were the Dwarfs pushed back. They gave ground grudgingly and made the goblins pay for every blood soaked inch of soil.
Gerhard gave the command for his men to ready, and they responded quickly. The goblins had pushed the Dwarfs back to where a few could trickle out from the entrance way. The huntsmen dropped the few that were able to peak their little heads from the gap as quickly as they emerged.
Quickly the goblin push subsided, only the occasional stupid or confused goblinoid would rush ahead only to be cut down swiftly. As the goblins ran backwards a large menacing figure entered through the causeway. It was large, about half the size of one of the trolls with studded and spiked armor all over. It stood, silhouetted from the brightness outside of the gatehouse and heaved as it smacked and bashed the goblins as they ran.
Other large orcs moved beside him rapidly and they rushed forward past their leader growling with ferocity at the site of the awaiting Dwarfs. The Dwarfs themselves let out a mighty cry and ran forward; the sound of the two groups colliding rang loudly as steel meet steel.
The Dwarfs held momentarily, dropping several of the large black orc bodyguard but were soon pushed back being outnumbered greatly. They dared not turn their backs but distanced themselves as quickly as they could. The orcs would not allow them to run and the weight of the attack began to wear on the Dwarfs, several of the proud warriors being cut down with no mercy.
Orcs to the right of Gerhard’s position began to flow from the exposed Dwarf flank, reminiscent of the goblins just moments before. A volley of arrows cut the orcs down before they could do any damage. Seeing the Dwarfs in trouble, Gerhard shouted ‘Brennenburg!’ His men responded in kind and the elite unit rushed forward with support of a small detachment of free company to the left.
The men ran past the Dwarfs as they tried to regain their footing and the heavy blades of the greatswords ripped through the tuff hides of the black orcs. The militia on the left did not fare as well; their little training was no match for orc blood lust. The men broke and ran after several were dropped quickly. The orcs hurried to pursue but the huntsmen cut them down with a volley before they could break into a full sprint.
This allowed enough time for Grunri and his kin to reform and they lunged forward in aid of their Imperial comrades. The left was beginning to fold as the weight of the black orc numbers were felt and this is the exact point where the Dwarfs struck. Again their ancient weapons found green skin to the pleasure of their masters.
Gerhard stood in the middle of the battle, his family heirloom doing massive damage to the enemy. An orc lifted it’s weapon high and charged him with an intimidating shout. The young Graf quickly dropped to one knee and sliced the orc’s limb off. It bellowed angrily as it flopped on the ground. Sebastian moved swiftly and stabbed the beast before it could return an attack. Another moved in quickly and Sebastian slid his left hand down the blade and raised his sword to block the attack. The orc hit the sword square and began to force Sebastian back. This gave Gerhard the opportunity to move around after decapitating another and stab his sword deep into the ribs of the beast. Sebastian skillfully brought his sword around with two hands and with a mighty chop landed a killing blow into the black orcs neck. The Graf pulled back with all of his might and again ducked a high attack from another orc and sliced in a wide arc that ripped a huge gash into the creature’s chest.
Disgusted by the sight of his boys and their pitiful attack, the orc boss pushed through the back of his guard and swung a heavy fist catching a greatsword in the jaw. He swung his large rustic sword gracefully and thrust it downward finishing off the man. The triumphant bellow was heard by Gerhard, the sound throwing him off and an orc catching him with a glancing blow that knocked him to his back. The orc raised it’s weapon to finish Gerhard off as two greatswords simultaneously swung their swords, incapacitating both arms as the blows ripped through flesh. One of the men finished the orc with a rapid blow to the back of the neck while the other man threw himself into two oncoming orcs.
Gerhard was promptly scooped up by Sebastian as the men made a perimeter around their lord. Olenbay nodded his thanks to his friend and readied himself. He looked to the left and saw the Dwarfs fighting for their lives skillfully and with great intensity. Suddenly, a group of three black orcs busted through the line, knocking several greatswords down and sending Sebastian flying past Gerhard.
He stood alone momentarily as the orcs toppled over from their assault. Time seemed to stand still as bodies scattered around him. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet. In slow motion his remaining guards on his right dashed forward into the greenskins. He was abruptly snapped out of his stupor when the orc warboss roared. The beast pointed it’s cleaver like sword at Gerhard, in a mocking display: a challenge demanded to the lord of Brennenburg.
The monstrosity snarled confidently. It was more than double the size of Gerhard and the creature’s sword stood just as tall. It had several heads hanging from it’s belt, victims from the towns and villages that were sacked and burned no doubt.
Gerhard lowered himself slowly, keeping eye contact with the great beast. As his greatswords fought around him keeping the orcs away he managed to pick up a stout Dwarfen shield and slowly rose up again in a hunched position. The orc swung it’s weapon quickly and Gerhard dodged to the right, deflecting the glancing blow with his new found shield.
The impact stung his arm a little. The beast again snarled at him, mocking him. The thing knew that Gerhard was the leader. No one but a boss could have such good warriors around like these swordsmen and even the Dwarfs. The thing could not understand how something so puny could be the boss of anything.
The orc swung it’s sword up quickly, grabbed the hilt with both hands and brought it down quickly and swept at Olenbay’s legs. Gerhard jumped sideways and rolled heavily onto his side, losing the shield in the process. He quickly scrambled to his feet and snatched up the shield again as the orc swung his great weapon around again striking a heavy blow. The blow smacked cleanly into the shield and sent Gerhard flying backwards. He landed heavily on his back, his sword and shield being lost as his body slammed into the ground.
The orc laughed furiously at Gerhard. It moved in slowly as Gerhard hurriedly grabbed his sword and tried to ready himself. Out of nowhere Sebastian burst onto the scene, he had recovered from the assault of the orcs and dispatched them as quickly as he could. He shouted the battle cry of ‘Brennenburg!’ as he leapt, his sword eager to taste orc flesh. The warboss quickly countered and through a punch at Sebastian, leveling him. His feet slipped out from under him and his large frame made a loud clanging thud as he landed.
The greenskin moved for a death blow upon the incapacitated champion but by this time Gerhard had recovered. He lunged with all his might and stabbed the monster in it’s exposed ribs. The orc howled from the intensity of the pressure that emanated from the blade, the power of the ancient heirloom pulsed within Gerhard’s grasp. Pulling back abruptly Gerhard dodged a fist that came his way from the flailing orc boss. As he stepped backwards, he planted his right foot and leapt forward and swung his sword in a motion that suited an axe more than a finely crafted sword. He came down across the arm of the beast that had swung wildly. A large gaping gash was ripped upon the orcs shoulder. In a fit of rage the boss brought it’s elbow back harshly and caught Gerhard on the side of the head knocking him down.
Before the boss could move to finish the Graf, Sebastian slammed his greatsword into it’s thigh. It wailed in anguish as the large sword was thrust so deeply that it caught the bone. The massive greenskin turned rapidly and kicked Sebastian in anger. The large man went flying and landed rudely upon the ground again. He tried to gain his footing quickly, but collapsed holding his ribs as he had difficulty breathing.
Gerhard’s head hurt and his vision was fuzzy. That hit by the orc nearly knocked him out, but he did his best to keep his wits. He blinked several times to clear his vision as he pushed up onto all fours. He saw his weapon in front of him, well two weapons and went to grasp it but missed. He tried again, but again failed. He patted around as he quickly fluttered his eyes to clear the cobwebs and he finally latched onto the sword.
Behind him, the warboss ripped the greatsword from his thigh and raised it high into the air and flung it with all it’s might at Gerhard. As the beast yelped, Olenbay spun to his back just in time. The sword hit his shoulder but at an awkward angle causing it to glance harmlessly off his armor. As it bounced off, the hilt smacked him in the nose in an unforgiving fashion.
Gerhard’s eyes watered. He grabbed his nose and realized there was blood everywhere. It hurt like crazy and he wondered if it was broken. He stumbled half blind as he tried to gain his footing. The orc moved in swiftly to finish him off but Olenbay managed to bring up his sword and block the attack to the side as he moved out of the way. Gerhard was callously kicked with a sidestep motion as the orc’s weight urged it forward, the mighty thrust pulling it off balance.
Graf Olenbay rolled over and planted his feet and the momentum built up allowed him to quickly spring to a stand. It was an elegant maneuver and one that did not fit the image of a blood splattered warrior. Gerhard stood on guard, his sword ready, both fists clung tightly to the hilt. He clinched his teeth and breathed through his mouth as the blood clogged his nostrils.
The warboss came back swinging it’s cleaver-like sword in a wide arc. Gerhard parried it downward and a quick series of thrusts and swipes were launched. Each warrior countered and parried as the other scrambled to gain an advantage. Gerhard fought with the fury of a demon as his blows were knocked aside. Unfortunately, the orcs stamina proved to be greater and Gerhard began to show signs of fatigue. His attacks became less frequent and he now focused only on parries. The boss roared violently and with all of his strength swung his sword as if he were cutting down a tree. Gerhard was unable to step back quick enough and was just fast enough to place his sword out to block. The monster’s force knocked the weapon out of Gerhard’s hand sending it flying into the wall of the entrance way. The brute force of the impact cracked Gerhard’s armor and smashed his arm. The blunted sword crushed and mangled Gerhard’s left shoulder, sending him toppling to the ground.
The boss roared triumphantly. He picked the Graf up within his large claws and looked him in the face. Gerhard’s eyes were half shut and he barely knew where he was. He struggled in vain to get free from the beast’s clutches. Suddenly a hard punch was sent at Gerhard’s face and then another. The nobleman was stunned greatly and his head wobbled as if it were about to fall off.
Gerhard opened his eyes slightly as everything slowed down to a crawl. He saw the orc rear back for a final punch. From behind the orc he saw a large figure leaping through the air. With a tremendous impact Sebastian slammed his sword into the back of the monster. He held on for dear life as the sword bit deeply into the muscle of the boss.
Gerhard was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. As he landed he saw the boss grab Sebastian by the head and fling him against the wall, knocking him out. The boss ignored the sword that protruded from his back and strode confidently towards Gerhard. The beast lifted it’s foot high into the air above Gerhard’s head and as it screamed a triumphant Waaaagh! Gerhard blacked out…
The boss almost smiled, if that was possible for an orc. He knew he was about to end this little humans life and that would be the end of the battle. The humans would give up and try to run. He only wished it was a better fight. The beast looked down at Gerhard and as it’s foot began it’s decent a swarm of arrows splattered his chest.
The warboss yelled as it took a step back, gaining it’s balance. It lifted it’s hand high into the air and raked the arrows snapping them off leaving the arrowheads deeply buried in muscle. Paying little attention to the huntsmen that held their position during the gatehouse melee, the orc looked to finish Gerhard yet again.
Another volley was loosed which infuriated the orc. The beast stepped over Gerhard’s unconscious body and made for the huntsmen and out of the tunneled entrance. He pointed his large sword in their direction and grunted angrily. The men fired off another volley and took off through the town. Having more than a dozen arrows protruding from his chest, the warboss leaned it’s head back and roared. In a mixture of anger and pain the beast scraped at it’s chest with it’s clawed hand splintering the shafts of the arrows.
As the beast looked into the clear sky a large hulking image hurtled itself from the top of the gatehouse. The orc’s beady eyes opened widely in shock and horror as the image darted closer.
Father Berkhard, shouting prayers to Sigmar, pulled his large warhammer back over his head. His body hurtled down the twenty some odd feet from where he just stood. With the power granted him by Sigmar he swung his weapon down forcefully as the warboss tried to turn to protect itself. Berkhard’s hammer landed squarely on the top of the warboss’s headed and a loud crack pierced the roar of battle.
The priest landed heavily beside the orc. His legs crumpled under him as he hit the ground, allowing him to roll as to not break himself. As he quickly gained his feet to renew his attack upon the great orcboss, the monster fell backwards, dead. The few remaining black orcs that remained in the gatehouse quickly lost heart. Seeing their boss dead they turned to run and were cut down by the Dwarfs and greatswords.
Berkhard began towards the beast, weapon ready. A severe pain hit his left leg, in his shin. He quickly realized it was probably broken but continued on. Satisfied that his job was done with the beast, he looked towards the gatehouse to see Gerhard. He ran as quickly as he could over to where the young Graf lay.
His shoulder was mangled and his face bloodied and bruised. He looked horrible. Berkhard Werner kneeled by Gerhard placing his huge hammer at his side. He lowered his ear over Gerhard’s mouth to check his breathing, very shallow he thought. The priest placed one hand over the Graf’s destroyed shoulder and the other over his head. He closed his eyes and began to whisper a prayer.
The greatswords rallied around. They paid little attention as the men atop the battlements cheered. The horde broke off and ran. Little did the men know that their lord’s life was quickly fading.
“Is he alright,” asked one of the greatswords, his voice trembling.
Sebastian stumbled into the circle, helped by one of his men. He held his aching head with one hand while having his arm draped around his subordinate’s neck. The two men sifted through the crowd and a rumble began as the Dwarfs began to look on with concern. Sebastian took his hand off of his head and placed it upon one of his soldier’s shoulders who stood in front of him.
Berkhard could sense the group around him, but did his best to ignore them. He needed to focus all of his energy into keeping Gerhard alive. His whispers became more audible with each passing breath, his mind clearing and devoted to this one task alone.
“Lord Sigmar, protect your servant,” Berkhard’s voice was now loud enough to hear. “By your mighty will protect your servant,” his tone was authoritative yet humble. “Heal the wounds of this man, Gerhard Olenbay, Lord Sigmar.”
Power pulsed through Father Berkhard as he prayed. It began at the very core of his being and coursed through his arms to his hands, transferring to Gerhard’s unconscious body.
“Give him the strength of an Unberogen,” he continued. “Give me the strength, Lord Sigmar, to pass on to your faithful servant Gerhard.”
The crowd gasped. Gerhard’s face, bloodied and swollen as it was began to clear. The cuts and swelling began to disappear and the blue, black skin tone started shifting back to normality. The Graf’s shattered shoulder began to reform. The chunks of bone and cartilage shifted back and forth searching for it’s place as the skin and muscle grafted back together.
“Mend his wounds; give him the strength to return from Morr’s kind embrace. Lord, Sigmar, give him the strength!”
The power rushed out of Berkhard quickly and into Gerhard. His body convulsed from all of the super natural energy as Berkhard took his hands off of him. The priest opened his eyes and joined the rest of the congregation that stood and watched.
All was silent, save for the commands and movements of the men around the town. Slowly, Gerhard opened his eyes and began to breathe normally. The men and Dwarfs cheered joyfully. Gerhard lay still, his head and shoulder ached and he couldn’t remember what had happened. He began to speak softly, trying to get the words across his still cut and swollen lips.
“Rest sire,” stated Berkhard. “We almost lost you for a moment. Sigmar has been kind to us this day, but it will take some time before you fully recover,” he stated as he smiled and lifted himself up from the ground.
The men rushed in and thanked the priest and praised Sigmar. Sebastian took his arm from around the man and extended it to Berkhard who gladly accepted the handshake. Berkhard backed away through the jovial crowd and moved on, he had more men to attend to this day, several being the brave greatswords that lay about.
Sebastian kneeled down next to Gerhard and slapped him lightly on the chest. He motioned for a couple of his men to grab a gurney to ferry their lord.
“It’s a good thing I was there for you,” stated Sebastian with a smile. “If not for me, you’d be dead.”
Gerhard laughed slightly, but closed his eyes in what seemed like pain. He shook his head weakly and grabbed his friends shoulder and squeezed in a gesture of thanks.
“Yeah, I know,” Sebastian said slightly choked up. “It was really Father Berkhard who you should thank. But the time will come for that.”
Two men hurried and rushed through the crowd and placed the stretcher down next to Gerhard. Sebastian stood as the men picked up the Graf and began to carry him to a horse drawn cart. He was to head back to the castle to heal.
“She’s going to kill me,” stated Sebastian as four greatswords lifted Gerhard onto the cart.
“What’s that manling?” asked Grunri as he ambled up beside the greatsword captain.
“His wife, Isolde” Sebastian responded blankly. “She’s going to kill me.” He was not impressed when the Dwarf grabbed his stomach and doubled over with laughter.
“Alright men,” Seby began as he pointed a mocking threat at the Dwarf who only laughed harder. “Tend to the wounded. Man and Dwarf. Fritz, get to Aloisi and organize a troop to assess the situation out there. Klaus, coordinate with each unit commander to compile a casualty list.
“Good showing men,” he continued as he looked at the many dead orcs around him. “A good night’s rest awaits.”
Gerhard sat up in his bed looking at various papers and reports. He shifted uncomfortably, restless from being in bed for several days straight. He pushed himself up to relieve some of the awkwardness and pressure upon his spine but his shoulder nearly gave out on him. He wriggled a bit, holding his arm close to his body as his shoulder ached and he managed to sit up more.
Looking past a letter he had received from Lukas Manstrom, who had fled the town before the attack, he came to the casualty report. His stomach churned horribly as he saw the paper and he began to read aloud.
“Fourteen dead, thirty-seven wounded. Twenty-one dead, Forty-six wounded including Captain Schaumer,” he scowled as he continued. “Ten dead, Thirteen wounded,” he stopped, unable to continue. He counted in his head the eleven dwarfs and eight greatswords that perished. Kaltenbach was severely wounded himself and was still fighting for his life. Lothar Mann did what he could, but the damage done by the troll was dreadful. Gerhard did not want to think about it.
Sebastian entered the room as Gerhard threw the papers aside. “Karsten has arrived, sire,” the captain stated as he sat in a plush chair in the corner.
“Nice of him to join,” Gerhard smiled. “How many men did he bring?”
“A good fifty knights, with two regiments from the Northern Army; they ran into Marshal Klipen at Ellwangen and he dispatched what he could.”
“Well, there are still talks of the horde reforming from the scouts. Hopefully we will have their services for a little while,” he stated more than questioned.
“Any reports from Agbetten,” Sebastian questioned as he leaned forward. “The whelps.”
“Nothing yet,” Gerhard chuckled. “I knew they would not spare any troops. They have had difficulties just as we have.”
Sebastian nodded, knowing of apparent rumors of an attempted coup upon the town’s noble family.
“You may need to worry yourself, sire,” began Sebastian slowly.
“Seby, I know Altman will try something,” Gerhard started. “He does not do a good job of hiding his intentions, sometimes. He will try to gain more support from the guilds than what he already has and convince them that somehow this attack was my fault. He will probably gain the support from some of the gentry too,” he held up the letter from Lukas Manstrom detailing his lamentations about his crops. The very same crops and fields he ran from at the first chance he had.
“Manstrom’s a fat, doddering, fool.” Sebastian waved his hand as to disregard the letter. “And I think you should arrest Gunnar now,” stated Sebastian forcefully.
“Let him make his move,” Gerhard said now looking out the window. After facing an orc warboss that was twice his size, the Graf hardly worried about old Altman Gunnar. “He will slip, and when he does, we will have him,” he paused for a moment and then switched topics quickly. “For saving their lives the independent villages would like to increase interaction. I think this will help us recover more quickly.”
Sebastian nodded his head as the Graf continued.
“Much of the crops were trampled by the orcs,” Gerhard looked at Sebastian ruefully. “Luckily, we have had several good seasons and our store houses are full. They should get us through the summer and winter. We must send word to Wissenburg of our situation though, so they may have opportunities of trade available if we need them.”
Again, Sebastian nodded.
“So, I hear Isolde gave you an ear full?” Gerhard turned to his burly greatsword captain and laughed.
“Sigmar did she ever,” he began quickly. “We could’ve used her upon the walls, sire. She would have been a better bodyguard than me, I tells you.”
The two laughed heartily as Karsten entered slowly. Gerhard noticed the young knight and invited him in.
“Thank you, sire,” Karsten began by bowing. “I’m glad to see you well. My apologies for not being here.”
Gerhard shook his head and waved his right arm as if to tell Karsten not to worry about it.
“How is your shoulder?”
“Much better thanks to Berkhard, but I think that there will be pain in it for the rest of my days. A nice reminder of the battle,” Gerhard again smiled. “Now, pardon my frankness, gentlemen but, I am getting tired.”
Sebastian stood and bowed to both Gerhard and Karsten and left the room.
“My apologies, sire,” interjected Karsten as he bowed. “I will leave you to your rest.”
“Farewell Karsten, Sigmar guide you.”
“And you, sire,” Karsten replied as he shook Gerhard’s hand.
The young, tall knight exited Gerhard’s chamber quickly, a purpose in his step. The Graf looked again at the papers upon his bed. Enough worries to drown a man. His stomach churned again nervously as he began to think about it all. He sighed heavily, realizing that his duties were not over. He did realize, however, that his worries would shorten his life if he continued this process. He prayed a quick prayer to Sigmar for strength and guidance and was comforted immediately. He slid down into his bed and threw the papers onto the floor and drifted off to sleep.
