Author Topic: The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05  (Read 7108 times)

Offline LizardKing

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #25 on: June 21, 2005, 09:22:41 PM »
We want more!!! We want more!!!!.....but dont rush.


-kill 'em all, let ULRIC sort 'em out

Offline wissenlander

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #26 on: August 18, 2005, 07:16:05 PM »
Sorry it's been so long, but here's the next part of the saga.  I have the next part in the works and hopefully that'll be up and ready before you know it.  Enjoy.
Part 7, Arriving at Hohleburg

It had been a long march from Brennenburg to Ostermark.  There was much debate amongst the town council over what should be done, but finally Wolfgard made the decision.  Brennenburg must stand alongside Martin, and he would lead his men.  This was met with great concern by nearly everyone.  It was believed that one of his marshal’s should lead the men while he stayed at home, but this idea repulsed the lord of Brennenburg. If his men were going to fight and die to unite the Empire, he would be beside them during the struggle.  He only wished that the Count in Wissenburg had made the decision.  Instead, it was left up to each individual Graf, Baron, Herzog, or Prince to decide his path during the upcoming struggle.

As the Brennenburgers marched into Hohleburg, men dressed in yellow and green scrambled around, making repairs on the dilapidated castle.  There was urgency in the air, but everything seemed to be in order.  The men moved quickly but without panic.

“They seem to be well trained,” stated Gregor matter of factly as he rode behind his lord at the head of the column.

“We have not seen them in battle,” responded a tall knight riding beside Wolfgard.  “They may not be so cool under real pressure.”

“Settle Reinier,” chided Wolfgard quietly.  “We do not need to cause an incident with our allies.  Especially before we set up camp.”  

“Yes my lord,” replied Reinier lowering his head as a sign of his apology.  The knight rode closer to his lord and leaned in slightly, and in a hushed voice, “you’re lucky my dear cousin, that we are family.  For you know not many men would survive such an open rebuking of me.”

Wolfgard laughed out loud and then smiled over at his younger kinsmen.  Reinier returned the smile, with a hearty chuckle soon to follow.  Reinier served as his second in command during this expedition. There were not many close familial ties in the Olenbay family during this time, but Reinier and Wolfgard were nearly like brothers, growing up together in the Border Princes, they faced many hardships.  When Reinier discovered that Brennenburg was marching north, he was determined to fight under his brethren’s banner.  He brought with him some of the finest knights of his order, the Wissengaurd, men sworn to protect the land and people of Wissenland.  This body of knights served as Reinier’s personal retinue, and proved to be fiercely loyal to him.  

The column of troops began to file through Hohleburg, when Wolfgard spotted a captain shouting out orders to his men.  Calling out to the stocky man, Wolfgard inquired of the location of Count Martin.  “He’s inside the Hohleburg, who wants to know?” was the response from the captain.

“Lord Wolfgard Olenbay, of Brennenburg,” he replied with pride in his voice.  Not for the sake of his own name, but for the lands and people he represented.

“Never ‘eard of ya,” retorted the man crossing his arms.  “But, ya do look important…follow me, and I’ll lead you to him.  Sergeant!” the captain shouted loudly. “Show ‘em where they can set up camp,” he added as a young man barely old enough to shave approached.

“Thank you,” responded Wolfgard as he spurred his horse to follow the Stirlander.  “Reinier, look to the men.”

Reinier nodded his head, staring intently at the Stirlander captain.  He did not like the way the fellow had greeted his lord, and it took every ounce of strength he had to not lance the portly man.  Instead he focused on his task at hand, which was to get the men into camp as quickly as possible so they could rest from a long march.  “Forward men, a good night’s rest awaits you.”  The column of Brennenburgers cheered, that was some of the most encouraging news they had heard in several weeks.

It did not take long for Lord Olenbay to make his way to the Hohleburg.  He was lead to a waiting area, or so it seemed, where there were several other men standing around conversing amongst one another.  As Wolfgard looked around, he noticed that the men were representatives from several areas of the Empire.  That heartened Wolfgard, because it showed him that he was not the only one who wanted to see the Empire united once again.  As he entered the room, all of the men turned to see a man that they did not recognize.  A man whose livery they did not recognize.  It looked much like the colors of Wissenland, but the right sleeve was black with red stripes adorning the length.

“Wissenlander?” one of the men stepped forward, sporting the colors of Reikland.

“Aye, I am Wolfgard of Brennenburg,” he replied extending his hand in friendship.

“Wolfgard you say?  It is my distinct honor to meet you, sir.  I am Georg Sander, and I lead my Reiklander’s in the name of Sigmar and under the orders of the Grand Theoginist Kurt III.”

“It is an honor,” Wolfgard bowed.  As he did, he surveyed the rest of the room seeing a couple of Averlanders looking in his direction.  Neither took the courtesy to introduce themselves, which did not surprise him in the least.  Averland and Wissenland had been fighting border skirmishes for some generations, and one act of allegiance would not change all of those years of bitter fighting.  To show that he would not let old hostilities sour the situation, and to add a little salt to the wound, Wolfgard bowed to the two and smiled.  Standing in between the two Averlanders was a short man; Wolfgard had not seen him prior to that moment.  On closer inspection it was no man, but a dwarf.  As the two warrior’s eyes meet, the dwarf strode between the Averlanders towards Lord Olenbay.  

“Good day to you manling from Wissenland,” the dwarf spoke with a deep, gruff tone.  “I am Unri Sunrisson of Karak Kadrin.”

Wolfgard bowed to the dwarf, and extended his hand.  “I did not expect to see our Dwarf friends here.  What brings you into this fray?”  The two shook hands and the dwarf smiled showing a near full mouth of golden teeth.  Only a few teeth were the standard white that one would be accustomed to.

“My lord sends me to watch over our trade relations with the Stirlanders.  We have been partners for a long time, and we will not let anyone interfere,” the dwarf took his free hand and rubbed the broad expanse of his warhammer, which hung in his belt, to prove his point.

“Well, that is a good enough reason for me,” Wolfgard and Unri released each other’s hand and to show a little more respect to the dwarf, he placed his right arm across his chest and again bowed.  “I am glad that you are in allegiance with us, I would hate to have to face such fine warriors in battle.”

Unri slapped Wolfgard on the arm with his broad hand and bellowed a huge guttural laugh.  “You’re a fine diplomat manling!  And at this rate, I’m sure you’ll be a friend for ages.”

Wolfgard smiled, knowing that it was always good to be friends with a dwarf rather than an enemy.  At that moment, a door at the far end of the room opened.  A priest of Sigmar exited the room soon followed by a few others of his order with a Stirlander bringing up the rear.  As the holy men exited, the men already present in the room greeted them with respect as was often accorded to priests.  The priests in return greeted the generals back, all except one.  Wolfgard looked closer and recognized the man, Father Lukas.  Lukas did not say a word to a man, or dwarf, present.  He only stared furiously at Wolfgard.

“A friend of yours manling?” Unri questioned.

“I do know the man,” Wolfgard began as the Stirlander attendant invited them all in to meet with Count Martin.  “He used to be the head of the church back home, until he conspired a coup to overthrow me.”

“And you let him live?” Unri asked in confusion.

“The church decided that in these troubled times, it would be a waste for a man of his devotion and courage to be dismissed or executed.  Not to mention it would look bad upon the church,” Wolfgard smiled and winked as he continued.  “He was transferred out of Brennenburg and I was assured that he would never return, under pain of death.”

“I’d watch my back if I was you, manling, the stare he gave would’ve killed lessers I assure you.”

“Thank you for the advice,” Wolfgard grinned as they entered the room.

The small group entered Martin’s provisional headquarters to see the young man milling over papers and maps.  “My lord,” began the attendant.

“What is it?”  Martin questioned impatiently.  

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but there are several army commanders that have recently arrived.”

Martin threw the papers in his hand to the table in seeming disgust.  “Alright,” was all he could manage to say as he turned to see the generals already in the room.  “Well, I haven’t much time,” Martin went down the line of each commander and shook their hands quickly.  Without asking names or inquiring to the status of the men under their command, Martin directed each general where to deploy their regiments for the upcoming operations.  Before dismissing the generals, Martin did formally introduce himself to Unri, for it would have been foolhardy not to.  The men of Reikland and Averland exited the Hohleburg in a near rage at the unpleasantries.  Wolfgard, however, remained in the waiting room for Unri to exit.  It did not take long for the dwarf warrior to saunter out of Martin’s chamber, and as he did it was noticeable that the dwarf was vexed.

“What is it my friend?” questioned Wolfgard to the fuming dwarf.

“The man,” was all he could start out saying.  The doors shut behind them, and Wolfgard and Unri began walking out of the castle.  “He is not as cordial as you my friend, I can say that,” he finally was able to say through clinched teeth.

“It may be that he has a lot on his mind, friend,” responded Wolfgard.  He said it aloud to reassure himself that that was the reason for the near snubbing.

“Aye, that’s what he told me.  But then he has the nerve to place me and my lads back here guarding the baggage trains.  What kind of disgraceful operation is this man running?” spat the disgruntled dwarf.

“I am sure that it is just to see where your stout warriors are needed most,” answered Wolfgard as they exited the castle gates.

Unri again roared a mighty laugh.  “You may be right Wolfgard, you may be right.  Farewell friend,” the dwarf shook Olenbay’s hand as they parted ways.  “I saw a wagon or two with some fine lookin’ ale as it’s cargo.  I think that’s a good enough reason to stick around for a while.”

“Indeed,” Wolfgard smiled as he bowed and watched the dwarf shuffle away, greeting a few of his comrades in the gruff dwarfen tongue, undoubtedly telling them of what had occurred.

Wolfgard mounted his steed as an attendant brought it to him and he thought to himself, “At least I hope that it was because he had a lot on his mind.”
Me and Wissenlander had babies!

not together.

finding photographic evidense that Wiss smiles is going to be hard...

Offline General Helstrom

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #27 on: August 18, 2005, 09:55:10 PM »
Nice to hear from Brennenburg again!

Keep it up. I'm saving you space on the campaign website :)
I don't know what Caesar thought when he got to the Ides of March
Don't know what Houdini bought when he went to the store
But I sure do miss the eighties

Offline wissenlander

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #28 on: August 22, 2005, 07:19:24 PM »
Here's that next part I was talking about.  It's a bit longer than my previous posts, but I needed to get the description in.  This was loosely based on a game that I played.  Enjoy!
Part 8 Action at Udo's Fall

Wolfgard did not know what to make of the man who he hoped would become emperor.  Martin seemed to care little of those men who were not of his county.  As Wolfgard returned to his command, he wondered if the rumors were true.  Did Martin really sacrifice the Ostermarkers at Hel Fenn?  He had talked to a few veterans from Wissenland, those who had fought at the battle.  But they were on the right flank, away from the reported atrocities, and were in no position to confirm or deny the reported events.

Wolfgard took in a deep breath and sighed.  All of that had passed.  And there he was, standing on a hill in Ostermark.  He was concerned for his home, so far away, but trusted that Hoffman and the council would make sure that nothing bad would occur in his absence.  The sigh that Wolfgard released was one to bring clarity, to let all of his concerns and fears escape him.  He had no time to worry, for his men were here, on a ridge near Udo’s Fall in Ostermark, and they needed his leadership.  

They had just arrived in their position that afternoon, at the request of Martin himself.  In all actuality, they were ordered further down towards the forest that stood in front of them, but Wolfgard was not willing to have his men stumbling through thick underbrush at night while reports came to him telling of enemies close at hand.  No, instead he held the high ground, where his men could remain in tight battle formations rather than worry about the disorder that would occur in the trees.  Night was coming, and quick, only a few more hours of day by that point and if need be camp could be struck upon the hill.

While Lord Olenbay surveyed his position, he noted a tall, wiry man who stood alone behind the front lines of his troops.  The man had a brown cloak on and had the guise of a person who did not know much of personal hygiene.  The man gazed into the skies and noted the birds as they flew by.  The men did not understand the ways of magicians, or warlocks, and neither did Wolfgard, but they all realized that in order to counter act the evil in the world, it was necessary to have one or two of these unsavory characters around for protection.  This man, Alden as he was known, was one of them.  He in fact, never sought out trouble, but it seemed to find him.  Wolfgard was wary of the man, but did his best to respect him, and on several occasions Alden proved his worth in battle.  It still did not matter much to some folks, as was noted in the way the men kept their distance as they milled around in loose formation, keeping their distance from him.  They thought the practice of magic evil and Alden was never fully accepted into the town.  This did not concern Alden in the least, however, for he was not much of a people person himself and much preferred the company of animals to humans.

“My Lord,” Schaufelein’s voice rose above the murmur of the men, snapping Wolfgard out of his daze.  The veteran captain limped forward, bowing his head slightly as he approached.  “Reports have just come in from the scouts, orcs are moving in this direction.”

“Good,” replied Wolfgard.  “This is the perfect position, they will run squarely into us.  I am glad we received word when we did, I was ready to give word to the men to pitch their tents,” he said with a voice clearly indicating he wished that was possible.  “Good work, Anton.”

“Thank you my lord,” responded Anton, squinting as he looked up to his lord, the sun shining brightly as it moved lower in the sky.  “My lord, your cousin Reineir has still not yet arrived with his retinue.”

Wolfgard looked down onto his grizzled captain from atop his horse and admired him for his loyalty and devotion, then he spoke, “It seems as though that orc raiding party held him up longer than expected.  We will have to make do without him and his retinue.  That town was far too important to let fall to those savages,” Wolfgard sighed again.  

“It’s alright my lord,” Schaufelein said quickly, as he patted Wolfgard’s horse on the side.  “It had to be done.  The lads’ll do fine, they always have.”

“Of course they will Anton,” he smiled.  “They are from Brennenburg.”

At that moment, a man dressed in brown and green ran up to the crest of the hill where they stood.  It was one of the scouts, and he was greatly winded.  “Lord Wolfgard, the orcs are just past those trees there,” the man pointed behind him, gasping for breath as he did.  “They were right behind us, the whole lot of them.”

“Relax, lad.  You did well.  Assemble your scouts over in those trees to our right and form a skirmishing line.  Hold our flank on that side as best you can, I know you will not be able to all day; I just need you to forewarn us in case we are turned.  Am I clear?”

“Yes my lord,” the man bolted from where he stood off into the direction of the woods.

“Alright Anton, it is time.”  The two shook hands and parted ways.  Anton limped down towards the front of his spearmen, the 1st Regiment, and Wolfgard galloped towards Gregor who sat high in his saddle behind the 4th Regiment.  Wolfgard nodded his head for the drummer of the swordsmen unit to signal the other regiments of the action to come.  As the call beat from the drum, other drums sounded and the men hurried into formation and the flags were unfurled. All the while, as this happened, the orcs emerged from the trees, one large mass of green ferocity that was ready to wreak havoc.

“It looks as though Martin had the right assignment for us, my lord,” spoke Gregor.

“Aye, he did indeed.  It seems our reputation as orc fighters has preceded us,” Wolfgard chuckled.  “We do not have much of a reserve this day my friend, so you and I will have to fulfill that role.”

Gregor nodded as they reviewed the men.  Holding the left flank was Schaufelein’s spearmen.  There was nothing to anchor the line at that end, so this tough assignment was given to the veteran, for he was the only one that Lord Olenbay entrusted with such a difficult task.  In order to add more strength to his weak end, Schaufelein drew up his crossbow detachment to his right to provide supporting fire, and to keep in contact with the spears to the right, while the halberdiers formed to the left and back in a refused position.  Next in line were the swordsmen, with their detachment of archers forming a skirmish line in the front which covered both them and their detachment of halberdiers.  Out to the right were more archers, hidden excellently in the woods.  To the rear of the line were stationed the handgunners, the recently formed 7th Regiment, and the only cannon that made the trek from Brennenburg.  A name had not been decided for it as of yet, which was a debate that raged quite heatedly around the campfires at night.  Some thought it to be a bad omen not to name the machine, but many laughed it off as unneeded superstition.

The orcish horde stood still at the edge of the forest, screaming primeval grunts to their heathen gods.  As they did, drums pounded and horns sounded causing the host to further increase their rumbling.  To ease tension, the men of the 4th Regiment began singing, soon followed by their detachments and quickly spreading to the other regiments.  ‘Sweet Home of Wissenland’ was the song of choice that day.

As the soldiers sang the winds began to pick up and the hair stood on the back of every neck.  In the ears of all the adrenaline crazed warriors was heard the pulsating energy flow that only occurs when sorcery is about.  Quickly, the sensation passed, Alden dispelling the vile trickery before any harm could come of it.

As the orcs surged forward, Wolfgard looked down his line, confident that each man knew his assignment he stood in his saddle and spoke, “Here me men of Brennenburg!” he shouted over the singing, the men’s voices slowly faded to hear their beloved leader.  “The menace that you see before us is an old one.  It was not expected that we would be fighting this hazard, but it matters little.  This band of orcs threatens our lines, and whether they know it or not, they are acting in conjunction with the Ulricians.  So we fight them as we have always fought them, and let it be known that this battle here today WILL help us in winning this war!  May Sigmar be with you!”  

With that, the men of Brennenburg cheered their approval, rivaling anything the orcs could ever muster, and then their voices again arose in song.  Wolfgard raised his hand and in a quick motion waved to his cannon crew.  The chief gunner shouted a final order and they opened fire, signaling to the army that action was to commence, the first shot sailing well over the heads of the greenskins.  All crossbowmen and handgunners soon followed suit, dropping but a few of the vastness of the orc hoard.  The cannon crew quickly reloaded and fired again, the shot sticking firmly into the ground this time.  The shell landed in front of a pack of wolf riders who were howling quickly towards the 4th Regiment.  All fire was directed at this threat, and before the gibbering pack could reach the line, they were scattered by a concentrated volley.  As the smoke cleared, only a few wolves scurried back towards their line as most were struck down.  The fleeing wolves did little to dismay the oncoming line, only a few orcs in the back stopped to bicker amongst themselves for a brief moment, but they quickly reformed ranks.

Again, the cannon unleashed a cloud of smoke and fire.  This time however, it was a much louder explosion, and a much larger plume of smoke.  Wolfgard turned to see what had happened, but the entire crest of the ridge was shrouded in the fog of war.  As the smoke began to drift away, the cannon and its crew were no longer visible.  Only handgunners were seen, as they hurried about checking the carnage left in a crater made by the exploding cannon.  A bad omen indeed, thought Wolfgard.

The orc threat only continued on.  Handgunners and crossbowmen unleashed volley after volley trying to soften up the greenskin line before it crashed into them.  As the range closed, more orcs fell and the archers began to loose their arrows as the range decreased, but it still did little to deter the oncoming tide.  With little more than twenty paces between themselves and the orcs, the archer screen in front of the 4th Regiment melted away and fell back behind the lines.  Wolfgard shouted to his men to hold steady and prepare themselves for the inevitable impact.  

In the blink of an eye the orcs were upon the 4th.  A loud clash of steel echoed over the landscape, and the sweet sound of singing was replaced by horrible screams of battle, as the Brennenburgers initially reeled from the immense tide.  “Steady!”  Wolfgard shouted to his men, as he looked down the line at the 1st regiment, not yet engaged.  The orcs on that side were lagging behind slightly and as they ambled forward the handgunners on the hill and the crossbowmen detachment unleashed a horrendous volley that toppled many of the horrid beasts.  It did not deter them, however, and as they crashed into the wall of spears Schaufelein could be heard shouting out encouragement to his men.  

When the orcs hit on the left they did not make as big of an impact as was made on the right.  The spears held the advantage at this point and the first line of orcs were slaughtered as they were skewered on the pointed wall.  The crossbowmen poured in another round of bolts and slowly began to give ground to the orcs who were lead by their boss.  

The massive greenskin was riding an equally large boar and as the two monsters road through the line, men fell in droves.  The boar gored with it’s vast tusks, throwing men into the air as it reared it’s head from side to side with the commands of it’s master.  The immense orc wielded a large rusted sword that stood nearly the size of a man and wielded it with great strength, heaving it from side to side crushing and butchering Brennenburgers as he went.  The crossbowmen could not stand up to this brute, and they continued to give ground, loosing bolts as they pulled back.  Several stuck into the orc warrior, with little effect.  The monstrous creature only roared a defiant cry of anger as it sliced men in two and continued onward.  The crossbowmen could not take anymore and they began to flee in disarray.

Seeing this, Wolfgard spurred his charger and rode headlong into the midst of the oncoming danger, dropping several orcs as they closed in on the crossbows.  Gregor followed suit and as an orc leapt at Wolfgard, he loosed an arrow that plunged deep within the tiny brain of the massive creature, felling it before it could harm his lord.  Finally recognizing a human that may be able to give him some contest, the orc boss howled again in what seemed to be a challenge to Lord Olenbay. Wolfgard turned his steed to confront the orc, and the horse screamed and kicked up as the boar began to rumble towards them, carrying it’s master with it.  Quickly pulling the reigns to the left, the horse skipped to the side, allowing the charging boar to pass by, which gave Wolfgard an opening.  While the beast ran past, Wolfgard thrust his sword downward, slitting the neck of the boar killing it instantly.  The creature toppled to the ground, hurtling the orc off it’s back, leaving him vulnerable.  As the boss began to get to his feet, Wolfgard ordered the rallying crossbowmen to loose a volley into the beast.  The men did as they were told and soon the orc had nearly a dozen bolt shafts petruding from it’s body.  The beast bellowed a loud cry of pain as it got to it’s knees and it slowly began to give ground.  The remaining crossbowmen shored up the line as there was a moments respite from the staggering orc line.

The 1st was being slowly flanked by this point and the halberdier detachment on the left swung down and around the outside and crashed furiously into the open side of the orcs.  The heavy weight of the halberds added to the electrified men who stormed downhill.  The tough hides of the orcs could not withstand the awesome force and quite a few of the foul creatures turned and fled as they saw others’ being crushed by the massive force of the halberdiers.

Things were going well on the left, but not so much on the right.  The swordsmen of the 4th were being pushed back, but not under great effort.  The position in which Wolfgard chose was a good one, for the orcs had to fight uphill in order to gain ground.  It would take a lot to tire out these brutes, but every advantage would be helpful.  The halberdier detachment on the right flank had been pulled back soon after the archer screen melted away, in order to provide support to the 4th when needed.  Now was as perfect time as any to move in, and as they began to move at a double quick speed, the archers protecting the right loosed a volley onto the exposed flank of the orcs.  This enraged many of the thugs and it caused them to lose formation and scatter in several directions, one group chasing the now withdrawing archers while others continued to charge uphill.  With the fragmentation of force, the halberdiers pounded their way through the center, driving a hole into the orc line on that end.  The impetus with which these men hit the orcs allowed the 4th some reprieve and they were able to support their detachment as they pushed forward.  

As the first waves of the orcs ran in panic and confusion, the several untouched units lost heart and began to run themselves.  Even the orc war boss who was trying to rally his boys by bashing anything that came near him could not overturn the damage that had already been done.  While the orcs ran in confusion, the 7th on top of the hill fired off a few rounds to cover the other regiments as they shored up their lines.  The Brennenburgers cheered as the last of the orcs ran into the trees.  As the sun hid past the horizon the men began to tend to the wounded.  They were tired and their lines were too weak to withstand another assault.  If the orc boss could rally his warriors, the Brennenburgers would not be able to hold.  Wolfgard began issuing orders, contemplating withdrawing his worn troops to a more secure location.  And there, in the last glimmer of daylight, could be seen a galloping column of knights with the banner of Brennenburg fluttering at the head.  It was Reineir and his men returning from assignment, the hill would remain in Sigmar’s hands!
Me and Wissenlander had babies!

not together.

finding photographic evidense that Wiss smiles is going to be hard...

Offline HoS

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #29 on: August 23, 2005, 05:43:13 PM »
Oh my, I will never right another battle report again after this one! Wooh, that was really awesome!
Gave into the WoW.

Offline Vann Harl

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #30 on: August 24, 2005, 10:48:03 AM »
Absolutly jaw dropping, what a fantastic read. Vivid imagry just makes it come alive!
Grand Writing Competition winning entry;
"I was there! With the Men of Erlach!"

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The Brennenburg Chronicles: Latest edition 6/22/05
« Reply #31 on: August 24, 2005, 11:25:58 AM »
I really like the story so far.  More, more.  Thanks.
It takes but one foe to breed a war, and even those without swords can still die upon them.