The Baron’s Fifth BattleFirst Part: Hobgoblin’s ChoiceHobLord Kergit rode at the head of the column upon his wingless, runt wyvern - the sort of creature an orcen warlord would scoff at but which was satisfyingly more ferocious than anything else in his army (apart from the giant Dobber). Behind him marched several cohorts from the mighty warhost of the Hobgogla Khan had, massed bodies of armoured goblins flanked by wolf riders. It was an army the size of which he had never commanded before, and although it was of course dwarfed by the full strength the Khan could muster, he was chuffed to have wrested command of it from his predecessor Firdig the Fat.
They were headed deep into the land of Cathay, each and every goblin soldier thinking of the loot and plunder they would take. Yet these thoughts, which might have distracted the more usual kind of goblins as they squabbled over how they might share the as yet un-won prize, did not in any way hinder this army, for the soldiers of the Hobgobla Khan were well drilled and marched in good order.
Trundling along by Kergit’s side were his Wolf Chariots, their axles evidently in need of grease if the squeeling sound was anything to go by. Running immediately behind him, having to jump frequently to avoid the runt Wyvern’s droppings (it had eaten an unripe snotling the evening before and the subsequent intestinal gurgulations had resulted in a tough of the flux) were Kergit’s advisers, the shamans. He did not care too much for their advice, but every one of the Hobgobla Khan’s armies was well stocked with the babbling magic users and their presence on the field of battle could prove very helpful (on a good day).
Ergit’s army was made up mainly of foot-sloggers, regimented cohorts of uniformed soldiers. Each bore the characteristic shields of the Hobgoblin Khanate’s soldiers, decorated with gurning, monstrous faces, red tongues hanging from gaping maws. Some were armed with spears or scimitars, others with globe tipped maces.
By the side of the column came two bodies of wolf riders. In ancient times such warriors might have constituted the whole of a nomadic goblin army, but under the rule of the Hobgobla Khan, massed regiments of foot had come to outnumber such wolf-riders in nearly all the armies he deployed.
The most veteran unit was at the core of the column, a large body of spearmen led by a band of warriors who had served in many a battle. Behind them came another massed regiment of foot, these being a little smaller in size and made of recent conscripts, armed a little more haphazardly than the ‘regulars’ with weapons they had scrounged from the enemy dead, even some gunpowder weapons!
Near the rear of the column, just ahead of the human slave archers, came the largest regiment in the host - a massive body of goblin archers. Their rain of arrows, though not the most impressive in terms of range, could momentarily blacken the sky before studding the ground with a little forest of branchless saplings.
At the head of this cohort marched Thydig Bowlegged, clutching his favourite gutting blade and leering in a manner that outdid just about every other greenskin in the army. Beside him, his head weighed down by the oversized chainmail hood he always wore, was Big ‘Ed Chiggo.
“So, just to mek sure I’z got this right and proper in me ‘ed,” Chiggo was saying, “we is gonna be shootin’ but not ‘avin’ to get stuck in?”
“I’z told you twelvety times, I’z lookin’ out fer all your lads, an’ I’z be mekin’ sure we’z not gettin’ too close to the other side.”
“Close enuff ter shoot tho’, yeah?”
“Close enuff for dat, but no closer!”
Their enlightening conversation, pretty much a repeat of what Chiggo had asked several times already that morning, was suddenly ended by the rasping blast of Tiny Porgle’s bagpipes. This took everyone by surprise, but within moments the entire front seven ranks were burping, farting and blowing raspberries in accompaniment as they usually did.
Last of all came the war machines and Dobber the Giant - his job to pull the large Doom Diver along on its sledge - as well as the ragtag collection of baggage and camp followers.
Such was the mighty host (if numbers were anything to go by, a least) that approached the newly remodelled army of the VMC. Perhaps if Baron-General von Klaase had known soon enough, he would have ordered a retreat? After several defeats and the almost total destruction of his beloved Middenheimers, all around him could see he was a shaken man, if not a broken one.
He was about to face his last test.
More to follow.
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Hobgoblin Army for A4 Campaign, 2377 points
Warboss on runt, wingless Wyvern (as Gigantic Spider) -
Porko's Pigstikka, Spiteful Shield, Warboss Umm's Best Big Boss's 'At
Shaman, Level 2 - Staff of Sorcery, Talisman of Protection
Shaman, Level 2 - Power Stone, Dispel Scroll
Shaman, Level 2 - Horn of Urgok
Goblins, 30, Full Command - Spear, Light, Shield
Goblins, 30, Full Command - Spear, Light, Shield
Goblins, 30, Full Command - Hand, Light, Shield
Goblins, 25, Full Command - Hand, Light, Shield
Goblins, 50, Full Command - Short Bow, Light
Slave Archers (as Goblins), 22, Full Command - Short Bow, Light
Wolf Riders, 10, Full Command - Spear, Light, Shield
Wolf Riders, 10, Musician - Bow, Light
3 Goblin Wolf Chariots
Giant
2 Goblin Spear Chukkas
Goblin Doom Diver
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Second Part: All for OneThe morning seemed unusually still, as if a hush had infected the land and all who dwelt within it. Captain Albrecht was glad of the quiet and decided to enjoy it, especially as he knew it would not last. The orders had already been given – the army was to march at midday. There was just this one last task, being the reason its departure was delayed so long after the dawn.
Baron-General von Klaase was riding ahead of the captain, several ensigns and drummers separating the two men. Even from this far back Albrecht could see the commander was agitated. This was the ‘new’ von Klaase, a changed man born of bloody battles, defeats and flights, bearing very little resemblance to he who had first set foot in this far away land. This was a man who tugged and twisted at his beard, stared with glazed eyes as his officers reported to him, and screamed in the night as if devils were tormenting him.
Several officers had privately commented on their commander’s disposition, but none had the audacity to address the matter with him. The VMC’s factor, Bertold van Haagen, and its military commander, Anthoniozoon van Reikert (also commander of the ODS’ military forces) had not made an issue out of von Klaase’s state of mind. Indeed, the very fact that they had found a way to rebuild the fighting strength of his army proved that they expected him to continue his command. So it was not for men like Albrecht to raise a fuss.
The rebuilding of the army involved some unexpected developments. There was the obvious hiring of Tilean Mercenaries - Hai Han was swarming with the swaggering fellows. And now there was the recruitment of Cathayans. Up until now the Cathayans had fought in their armies, each soldier a servant of his governor first and the Imperial Army second. They had even shared battlefields with the ODS troops. Here, however, were soldiers who would serve under the direct command of an ODS general, and not a mere handful but no less than five thousand men under the command of the Junzhu Nai Yong Fuo. Of these, one jing (1000 men) was sent to reinforce the Expeditionary Army of Middenheim.
And these were the men that the party rode to meet with this still morning. The jing had arrived sometime after dark. Having rested, they were now to formally swear loyalty to the Baron-General. Once this was done the army, united, could march.
The captain could see that von Klaase had reached the clearing where the Cathayans were camped, and blinked in surprise at what he saw - the flag of the VMC was carried by their ensign, and fluttered at the front of the massed ranks of halbediers. He had known these men were to serve the VMC, but until he saw this flag, the reality had not sunk in. He never thought he would see the day that the proud soldiers of the Emperor so willingly entered the service of foriegners that they would carry its colours and not their own!
For the next quarter of an hour Albrecht could not really hear what was said, though the drums and horns were loud enough. Flags were furled and unfurled, then paraded about. Swords were passed back and forth and hands were held aloft in the swearing of oaths. Finally the Baron-General spurred his destrier on and rode along the front of the Cathayan troops, his head turned to look at them. Captain Albrecht wondered if the General was wearing his vacant expression, and if so, whether the Cathayans would notice.
The whole party rode by, and this gave Albrecht a chance to get a good look at the Cathayans.
They looked to be very well drilled, generously equipped with armour and arms, strong, healthy and (most important of all) they looked to be keen, even fierce. The captain’s mood changed from curiosity to confidence. Maybe the Baron General’s fortunes in battle would change now? With men such as these, and sturdy Tilean mercenaries hardened to the rigours of war, surely the army had regained its fighting strength? Perhaps it was now a better army than it had been before?