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Rebellion....or a new beginning?

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A cold wind blew down from the vast plains of Kislev, it’s howling icy gusts hitting the small village called Brumberg. So named because of the large number of black bears that wandered the nearby woods and sometimes even the village streets. The village sat just on the border between Kislev and Ostland, but also on the sharp divider between plains and forest.

The people in Brumberg had always cursed the founders of the village, wondering why in the name of Taal they couldn’t have built it a bit further into the woods so that they wouldn’t be exposed to the constant chilling northern winds that came down from the great plains.

Hans pulled his wet soggy wool overcoat tighter as he prepared to cross the muddy main street. The rain was drizzling down from the rooftops. It had been raining for the better part of two weeks now and it showed no signs of letting up. The winter had been long and hard with Chaos filfth raiding outlying farms. The crops planted only weeks before was now being washed away in the relentless downpour. Famine would be a guest at many tables this year. “Taal help us all” whispered Hans as he looked up at the overcast skies and started across the street heading for the inn.

Nothing much ever happened in Brumberg these days. It had once been bustling with activity when armies from the south, mercenary or otherwise, came through on their way to win glory fighting the great enemy in the north. But then someone, “a bloody elven scout no doubt” villagers used to say, had found a quicker way to Erengrad. Soon enough there was a new road going north, miles from Brumberg, leaving the small village to wither away.

But the last few days there had been excitement. Two travellers had come into town. People said they were lords by the look of them. Some who had seen them at the inn even said they were Southern lords by the way they dressed. Hans, thinking it unlikely that anyone in the village could tell a northern lord form a southern one, had to see it for himself though before he would believe it. That’s why he had left his cozy fire and braved out into the storm.
Why would two noble gentlemen come to Brumberg?
And even more curious…..why would they stay???

Little Jozef Heintzl was only 10 years old, but he would never forget what he saw that day.

Jozef lived with his parents in the small town of Borkum on the southern shore of the Upper Talabec river. Their house was the one closest to the ford over the river. His Mutti had sent him out to play with his new toy. A wooden horse his father had just finished carving the night before. It was a cold spring day. Skies were grey and a light drizzle fell from the sky.
Dark storm clouds were rapidly moving south.
Not the best weather for a young boy to be out playing in, but his mother had sent him outside after he “rode over” a bowl containing a great number of eggs meant for baking.

It started as distant rumble. Almost like an approaching thunderstorm. But the sound was constant without interruptions and it kept growing. At first Jozef didn’t pay any attention to it since it had rained continuously for almost two weeks. He sat in his favourite place, high on top of the small stone wall that surrounded his parents garden, oblivious to everything but his new toy. Normally he would just sit there looking at strangers passing by and dreaming of far away lands and adventures. From there he could see everyone that came across the river using the ford. The land across the river was open countryside and he would see for miles around.
But today the toy horse had his attention.

It was the sound of real horses that made Jozef look up. The sound of many horses. His jaw fell open and his eyes opened wide in disbelief. Never had he seen such a thing.
Splashing across the river came men on horses. Men in armour and red and white livery.
Jozef being young and not having use for it anyway couldn’t count…..but he could see men on horses and men marching as far as the eye could see all along the northern bank of the river. They all had swords, spears or guns.
In the middle of the marching column there were even wagons with strange long metallic tubes attached to them. Jozef had never seen anything like it.

The road continued south from the ford, past the wall Jozef was sitting on. The first man on horse across the river was a hard looking man in armour on a white stallion. He had many scars on his face that Jozef could see and where one of his eyes should have been there was a black patch instead.
The second man across was an equally hard looking man in armour riding a huge black horse carrying a large flag with a menacing black bird on it. The standard fluttered hard in the wind.

The first man, noticing Jozefs wide open mouth and staring eyes, laughed and called out:

“Have you ever seen such a thing boy?”
“I would think not.”
“Run….tell your parents…..The Black Griffon marches south!”

After recovering from his initial shock the boy threw himself off the wall and ran screaming into the house:
“Mutti!”  “Mutti”   “Come look at the horses!!!”

Bolts of lightning streaked across the dark sky as the long column of men, horses and wagons started crossing the river.

The storm was back.

The Black Griffon was moving south.

A warm welcoming heat that came from the fireplace embraced Hans as he stepped into the common room of “Der Jägerhaus”.

“Ach Hans! Come in, come in….but hurry….close the door” came the voice of Ernst the innkeeper from behind the bar.

“Some people are colder then others” said Ernst and glanced over at something at the back of the room.

As Hans quickly closed the door he could see from the corner of his eye the two strangers sitting at a table in a dark corner of the room. The common room was empty except for the pair and that made it a strange place to sit since it must be the coldest place in the room.

“Ernst my old friend….what news?”   “What do you hear?” said Hans as he approached the rough planks laid over two huge barrels that served as a bar. Involuntarily his eyes kept glancing over at the strangers. They did look like lords. Under their long dark cloaks he could see lace and fine cloth. Yellow and black seemed to be the dominant colours. There was also a strange scent in the room. He could not quite place it. Perfume…? Could it be? Well no doubt then. They must be noblemen.

“Nothing but the rain my friend….nothing but the rain” answered Ernst.

“What will it be?”

“Mulled Wine….served as hot as you can”

While Ernst went about heating up the wine Hans kept shooting glances over in the corner that he might find out more about the travellers. It came to an abrupt halt though when the one closest to him looked Hans straight in the eyes and said in a harsh voice:

“Mind your own business peasant or I will make sure that you can only hear the rain…not SEE it!”

A southern accent. Averland was it? Hans had travelled in his youth, but it was such a long time ago and he couldn’t be sure. Averland…that must be it. Home of the mad Count Marius Leitdorf, although he was long dead now. Hans suddenly remembered hearing rumours some years back that there was civil strife in Averland and that the title was being fought over by Leitdorf’s distant relatives. Anyway….he had new information about the strangers. Elsbeth would be thrilled at this and keep off his back for awhile. His wife was the biggest tattletale in the village and the few hours peace this would bring him was almost worth the outrageous price Ernst charged for his mulled wine.

Suddenly there was the sound of men and horses outside. A low booming voice was heard saying:
“Wait here. I want sentries posted at both entrances to the village. No one leaves or comes in as long as we are here. Kill if you must, but avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”

“Remember, these are not Chaos scum but citizens of the Empire”

The answer came swift and without hesitation:
“Yes my Lord!”

The door to the inn flung open and a large man in a dark coat came into the common room.
Even a fool could see that this man was a soldier and not just any soldier, but one used to command. If nothing else then the polished breastplate and red and white livery that could be seen in the opening of his cloak gave it away. The scars in his face left by sharp weapons used in anger completed the puzzle.

“Ah, you are already here?”   “Good.” said the soldier to the two strangers.

The two strangers were already up on their feet. The taller of them. The one most scented with perfume, looked a little bit annoyed and said to the soldier:

“Why did he not come himself?”

“He does not have time for this meeting. Our forces have already moved across the river. I speak with his tongue and listen with his ears”

“Very well.”  “Come”  “We have a private room in the back where we can talk”

“Innkeeper! Bring more mulled wine to the backroom and hurry up!!!”

As the three men moved into the interior of the inn Ernst and Hans could just stare at each other in amazement.
This kind of thing was unheard of in Brumberg….at least it hadn’t happened in centuries.

As Ernst started to hastily prepare lots of mulled wine, Hans stepped out into the street and almost fell over with surprise. The street was full of soldiers and horses.

Who was this man?

And then he realized something…
Praise be to “The Green Man” thought Hans as he hurried home. All this commotion would be the talk of the town in no time. And if his Elsbeth had the story first….why then he might even have a whole days worth of peace and quiet.

Praise be to “The Green Man” thought Hans yet again as he splashed his way through the mud.

Found this site last week and like reading the stories on here and looking at other peoples armies   :biggriin:

This is the story/fluff about/around my army and its commanders the von Ottenheim family.
I write it for my own sake but thought I´d share it.

I´m always coming up with stories around my figures when I´m painting them.
There are probably plenty of grammatical and spelling errors since english isn´t my first language    :icon_confused:
Feel free to correct me if needed.

I like the Warhammer minis and started buying some in the mid-nineties but have never played the game.
I have bought some during the years but just recently (read last year) started assembling and painting them.
Not sure how to post pics on here to show it. ??

Have some early pics from last year posted on if you search for Black Griffon.

Reading here in the forum I discovered the Perry miniatures....Wow....nice ones.....will try and bolster my army with some of those.

Really enjoy this site and always finding new and interesting stuff on here  :smile2:

"Taal go with you"

Ulrich von Ottenheim

Commander Black Griffon
Komtur Templar Knights of Taal

Enjoyed the start of your story. :icon_cool: :::cheers:::


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