Warhammer Fantasy: A Dynasty of Dynamic Alcoholism

To say that the Greatswords and Knights had been unhappy at his decision would be a bit of an understatement. Given the intensity of combat that they most often faced, the placement on the battlefield, and the general experience in fighting that they'd had for most all their careers in their current positions, this was not unexpected. Knights were meant to be heavily armored, and Greatswords as well. Yet they followed orders, thankfully, out of loyalty and oaths to those they had followed before in Ostland and had now inadvertently followed to Albion. It took a bit of time, though Mardudd did cluck his tongue in approval before snapping his fingers at another of his party who revealed an incredibly odd instrument from where it was slung on their horse's side, some sort of long tube which terminated in what appeared to be a dog or wolf's head. It was this horn-like thing which produced that oddly mournful yet powerful sound that Magnus had heard before when they'd just arrived. Some of the nobles who had accompanied Chieftain Mardudd disappeared into the mists and rain as well atop their horses, off to go rally the other nearby villages.

The moment the last of the armor hit the mud, and was stored as securely as possible back within the ships and watched over by the bedraggled crews who had gotten swept up in the celebrations at Salkalten, they were on the march.

"Watch your step, do not go off path!" Mardudd boomed, "Stay inside of horses," he gestured at the loose formation of his nobles which outlined the column. "Dangerous, otherwise!"

"You heard the man, stay inside the perimeter!" Magnus called out as he marched along the muck-riven road, doing his best to warm his body up to resist the chill which was doggedly trying to set in thanks to the rain and wind.

Others were not so successful.

"Verena's Open Eyes, this place is cold," Reinhardt shivered from next to him, sword chained to his back to keep his hands free.

The Albionese seemed utterly unaffected by the climate, but that was likely because they had lived in this place all their lives. That was the only explanation as to how the nobles and more common tribesman were okay in these conditions. While the nobles wore half-plate atop their unarmored horses, the rest had bits and pieces of the armor sets they'd been sent. Breastplates on some, greaves and bracers on others, while only a handful wore helmets. It seemed that after the trainers left to go back home, the Albionese had simply customized as to their preference, which would likely be surprising to those who had attempted to dress them as standard halberdiers and swordsmen. At the very least, they had, to a man and woman, upgraded from their bronze and stone almost completely up to steel, save only for the enormous claymores that the nobles wore.

"Eh, it's not so bad," Mena shrugged as she walked alongside the other two, spinning her axe in her hands, the faint glow of the weapon leaving odd shimmers in the air. "My axe on the other hand…,"

"The Winds blow in gales here," Magister Carlotta said as she stepped along, almost seeming to vibrate in her own greenish skin which was strangely more flush than usual.

The curious aura of growth which surrounded her almost seemed to be in overdrive, seedlings, grasses, and even the beginnings of small shrubs appearing where she walked, only for such things to be trampled down by the hundred and hundreds of soldiers behind her in the column.

"What does that mean?" Magnus asked immediately, gaze locking onto the wizard. "Is that good, or bad?"

"It is both, youngling," Magister Alric said as he stumped forward, heavy furs now thoroughly sodden. "We tested it before we left. A petty spell to create a candle's worth of light nearly blew Magister Smokewrought's arm off."

At that, Magnus, Mena, and Reinhardt's heads whipped around to look at the surly Bright Magister and his cadre, all of whom were quite literally steaming as their inherent ambient heat interacted with the cold of Albion. There was, indeed, a bit of singed blackness around the Magister's left arm, but he didn't seem to notice much. The environment was wreaking hell on the unfortunate Bright Wizards, who had at first endeavored to create some sort of heat shield overhead to block some of the rain only to be shouted down by Mardudd and the Truthsayer – though only the former could be understood – to shut it down due to the fact that the shield of flame would have emblazoned their position for miles around. Which, in turn, had almost led to something far worse than a mere argument before Magnus had stepped in.

"Then, an amber spear," the wizard waved his staff back and forth, "Only the damn thing fizzled before I could even form it. Ghur slipped from my grasp as if I were nothing more than an acolyte brought into the Brotherhood for the very first time."

He spat into the mud.

"We must be exceedingly careful with our magics in this place – though those Druids of theirs seem to twist and blur in with those gales."

Alric paused at the confused looks facing him.

"You can't see it anyway, how they…oh never mind," he grunted before turning back to Mena. "Your axe. Your gauntlet. Made by Odelia, right?"

Mena's grin was stark and gleaming in the dim light of Albion, its appearance startling to Magnus and Reinhardt after going so long without seeing one outside of battle.

"Damn right. Mother," she said the word after only a slight hitch in her voice, "Made them for me with Patriarch Von Tarnus' help. A uh," the smile winked out like a suffocated flame. "Price," she continued dully, "An exchange. After…after Draken…left."

The Heir of Nordland, one of the fiercest warriors in the Empire, in that moment?

Seemed so very, very small.

It lasted but a heartbeat until two hands clapped onto her shoulders, one from Magnus, the other from Reinhardt.

"And they're damn good," Magnus said.

"And so are you," Reinhardt added.

And her back straightened once more.

"The point," Alric continued, his expression as surly as ever, "Is that the magic woven into those is not unaffected by what's happening here. Same for yours, Prince Hohenzollern," he pointed a clawed finger at Brain Wounder. "Dwarf runes aren't the same as our meager enchantments, but they're not unaffected by intense Wind movement either."

Magnus frowned and examined the prominent Master Rune glowing on the blade, right at the base before the hilt. He couldn't tell if it was glowing any more than usual or not. It was not as if the blade would likely tell him, either way.

"Well, I should be fine then," Reinhardt said cheerfully. "No danger of this old thing exploding," he said while waggling the zweihander by the hilt, at least before a pair of fists thumped into his side. "Unnecessary," he pretended to wheeze.

True to Mardudd's word, as they marched along for another hour, the rest of his nobles returned, bringing with them groups of Albionese fighters of varying number. All were either branded, scarred, tattooed, or otherwise marked as members of his tribe.

"What of the other two tribes we've been supplying," Magnus asked of Mardudd after the last of the Albionese had filtered in. "The Matholwyr and Nudd?" He only slightly mangled the pronunciation.

Mardudd snorted.

"Thiana and Lain? Eh," he waved his hand. "We go to one of the wild Oghams, Thiana's chariots are no good there, and she doesn't like me much besides – my daughter maimed one of her sons when he tried to steal her," he said with a shrug. "And Lain is a coward. Few circles in his lands, and all held by the Druids, not the Fimir. Won't fight unless he really has to," Mardudd then spat out a curse in Albionese.

There was a death in conversation for several minutes afterwards.

"So…it's just us, then," Magnus said with a sigh.

"Is how it's always been, eh? Hasn't been a King or Queen in generations," Mardudd sniffed dismissively. "Last one was Boudicca. Rallied all the tribes together, one big push, eh?"

The rest of the Albionese nobles nearby began shaking their hands, some of them sucking air through their teeth or slumping their shoulders.

"I get the feeling I know the answer to this, but what happened?" Reinhardt asked just loudly enough to be heard.

"We lost, eh?" Mardudd growls, glaring at some point in the north rather than the east that they'd been heading towards. "Fimir had forced out the Brùs, and were building their damned city. Boudicca wanted to stop them before they got the walls up."

"Was a slaughter," one of the nearby nobles with a splash of blue across half of her face said angrily. "Stories say Boudicca," he continued to speak while slipping into furious Albish.

Eventually Mardudd noticed the blank looks on the faces of the audience and barked something at the speaker.

"They don't speak our tongue Aberfa," Marddud clucked his tongue. "You, Empire, you seen…mmm," he paused, eyes rolling about in the sockets as he sought the word. "Twisting? Body, taken by the dark? Big," he held out his hands, "Many hands, limbs, mouths?"

"Chaos Spawn," Carlotta said tersely. "Yes. I think we know what you mean."

"Mmm," Mardudd nodded, "Chaos Spawn," he said the words slowly. "Many taken. Twisted. Others died, sacrificed to daemons."

He then paused before looking at them gravely.

"Boudicca lives. Twisted, now, eh? Prize war beast, like hound but…spawn," he hunched his shoulders and shuddered, the first such display that Magnus had ever seen of the man even now.

"I've never heard of Chaos Spawn surviving their conditions for long, at least before they're goaded into battle or forced there by their masters," Magister Smokewrought said abruptly, having risked leaving the heated confines of the Bright Wizard formation. "How can you be certain it is this…Boudicca?"

Mardudd glanced down at the man, something tired and worn in his gaze now.

"She still bears her crown."

And that was that, for a time, before some riders appeared out of the rain and mists and began yelling to Mardudd, who began yelling back. Then, from the skies, came a dark brown bird of sorts that landed directly in front of the Chieftain before rippling upright onto two legs, revealing a second Druid that began conversing with the counterpart that had accompanied the column thus far. A buzzing energy seemed to ripple across the assembled Albionese, and then into the Imperials who could sense it as well. It was the well-worn instincts of battle-hardened warriors activating, informing, telling, preparing. Magnus felt his hands lightly clenching and unclenching on the hilt of Brain Wounder, Reinhardt began limbering up as much as he could while moving in his armor, and Mena began spinning Flammenwulf about, the wolf etchings on the axe almost seeming to glow the faintest orange and red.

"Ogham's up ahead," Mardudd eventually said, pointing into the darkness. "Time to get ready, eh?"

"I can see it," Carlotta said after a moment, her eyes widening as her steps faltered.

In fact, the same could be said of all the wizards.

"Fang and Claw, that's…," Alric sputtered.

Magnus glanced at them and then back at Reinhardt and Mena, receiving only two shrugs in return.

"Is this another matter of being able to see and feel magic, and not?" He asked after his friends looked at him rather pointedly.

"Oh my, yes," Carlotta said, her eyes flaring a positively burning emerald green. "I can…see why…,"

Her slowed speech came to an abrupt halt as the Druid appeared and stamped his staff down upon the mud, splashing a bit of it onto the Magister's robes and shaking her out of the near trance she'd fallen into. The deer-skull wearing Lear pointed at her, then at Boris, and then at all the other wizards, babbling angrily. Mardudd ended up having to get off his horse and come over to interpose himself, raising a hand and speaking to the druid, only to get another tirade back. Only then did Mardudd turn back to Carlotta. His gaze was not hard, precisely, but neither was it particularly cheerful like most every other time.

"Lear says to control yourself, druid," he said pointedly. "Stone Circles are Albion's, eh? For Druids only. Don't…," he waved a finger warningly, "Get greedy." He then looked at all the nearest Imperials. "That goes for all of you, eh? Don't. Touch. Druids. Only," he said, moving from one person to the next with each word. "Not Empire. Not Fimir. Albion. You help? You help. You want?" He gestured back into the darkness to where the Ogham apparently waited with one hand. "You go away. Forever."

The Albionese did not heavily outnumber the Imperials. But in that moment, they definitely surrounded them on all sides, with the Greatswords and knights bearing only half-plate. Even though the Druids were heavily outnumbered by the Imperial Wizards, Magnus had watched as more than once during their march as the graduates of the Magic Colleges attempted minor workings of their magic, struggling heavily with the fluctuations in the Winds that he could not perceive. All the nearby Albionese nobles had turned on their horses now, hands falling to their weapons. Their claymores may have been bronze, but they were long and heavy enough to do plenty of damage with a good hit.

"I…have no intention of… harming the Oghams," Carlotta carefully spoke into the silence.

"Doesn't matter," Mardudd said seriously, gaze just barely shifting towards a glare. "Only Druids know how to keep the Oghams. You…," he waved a hand, "Not true Druid. Empire Druid. Wizard, eh? You curious, you…you poke?" He ground his teeth at his lack of Imperial vocabulary. "Could hurt them, even if you were nicest little wizard there ever was. So don't. Understand?"

Carlotta was, Magnus knew, a Magister of the Empire. Legally, one was meant to respect that title with the Magister in question being referred to formally as 'Master' or 'Sir' or 'Madam'. For all that she was relatively new to the position, it still carried weight.

"I…understand, yes. I will endeavor to not cause an undue stress to the Oghams," she eventually replied, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Good!" Mardudd said, leaning back from his loom with a wide smile on his face. "All good then. Been that way since King Lugh himself was taught by the Sun. Punishment for going between the circles, amongst the Oghams, is death if not let in by a true Druid. Shame to have to kill you all, eh?"

Mardudd and the Albionese laughed uproariously.

The Imperials did not.

"How, precisely then, are we to dislodge the Fimir?" Magnus asked, working to keep his voice cool despite the dire threat just levied upon them. "If we cannot even fight them within the circle?"

The Chieftain just shook his head.

"Fimir don't build their walls inside the stone circles, Empire man. Would harm the Winds they want to draw. Iona," he gestured towards the new druid, this one a woman who wore no deer skull to hide her heavily scarred face, "Says this Ogham is claimed by a duo of Dirachs. Lucky we have two Druids, eh?"

"Dirachs?" Mena asked. "That some kind of Fimir, uh," she glanced at the Druids and then the Wizards. "Magic Fimir?"

"Mmm? Oh, yes," Mardudd nodded. "Powerful. Subordinates to Mearghs, Fimir Clan Leaders, very powerful," he said with no small amount of fear in his voice. "All under the Dhar-Meargh, the Fimir…eh, Queen, eh? Rules from their city."

"These sound like Balefiends, then," Magister Smokewrought said pensively. "Subordinate spellcasting males beneath the sole female Fimir – the Mearghs. Both are dangerous."

"How dangerous," Reinhardt asked immediately, the Ostermarker cracking his neck from side to side.

"Mmmm, Fimir magic is crude, barbaric, but can be hellaciously powerful," Smokewrought waggled a hand in the air. "It depends on how much magic they've stolen, daemons bound, and so on. They're also rare, but far less…established in the Empire than they seem to be here. But the Balefiends I fought before coming to the service of the Hohenzollerns were a match for some magisters."

A ripple of fear made its way through many of the Imperials within earshot.

"And…Mearghs?" Reinhardt asked much slower this time.

"Been fortunate enough to never fight one," Smokewrought sighed. "Heard there were one or two in Sylvania, during that campaign...and that it was lucky the Supreme Patriarch was around. But Balefiends are subordinate to them for more than one reason."

"Very powerful," Mardudd added in. "Need a High Druid if we were fighting a Meargh. But today, not doing that, eh?"

"What are we doing, then," Magnus waved a hand at the troops. "I don't see any siege weapons."

Mardudd just tilted his head at him, honest incomprehension on his face.

"Things to…knock down walls? Gates? Castles?"

"Oh!" Mardudd's face brightened. "Fenbeasts, eh? Druids handle that," he gestured at the pair of Albionese magic users. "We need to prepare ourselves. Two parts to this, eh? One will be your Empire tactics. Big…block. Wall, eh? To receive Fimir when they come outside. Other part much more dangerous," he bared his teeth in a grin.

"How dangerous?" Mena asked.

"Very. We go around side, come from behind, try to reclaim Ogham. Dirachs will have guards. Not just regular Fimir – the Fimm," he said ominously. "Most Fimir, like you saw back at coast? Lowlies. Lowest caste. Shearls."

Magnus blinked.

The smallest of the Fimir that had attacked the coastal village had been easily the size of a fully armored knight on a truly towering warhorse. The sheer strength they'd displayed would equal even some of the Maelstrombringers and Pulverizers. It had been the first time that Magnus had ever faced their kind before, but he'd also assumed that the raiders had been more than apparently the least of their kind.

"Fimm bigger. Stronger. Tougher, too," he growled. "Some Fimm with the rest, probably, but for blocks to fight. Others…harder, because Dirachs."

"I…thought you said we couldn't even go near the Oghams without being allowed by a true Druid?" Carlotta spoke up.

"Yes," Mardudd nodded. "Get protection glyph if coming to circle, otherwise, can't come. Tell me, Empire man, Fimir fought either way. Which, eh?" He spread his hands out and waggled them as if weighing invisible stones. "Horsemen go around sides, wait for blocks and Fimir to hit."

"What if the Fimir don't come out from their castle, though?" Mena asked, her gaze sharp as she considered the battle ahead.

Not that the castle and the Ogham it was defending were even visible just yet.

"Ah…if that happens," Mardudd sucks air through his teeth. "Have to go in and get them. Not easy. Either way, have to kill them," he shrugged as he glanced at the horizon before turning back. "So, say, which ones you want? Stay, form up on right in the blocks. If go, must take glyph, swear oaths, be ready to die. Also…can't bring too many, else obvious, eh?"

The two Druids babbled in Albionese, making Mardudd wince.

"Eh, fine, fine," he rolled his eyes at them before looking back to the Imperial Wizards. "Empire druids can't come to circle. Too risky."

"Chieftain Mardudd, we will swear the oaths, there's no need-," Carlotta began.

"Ah ba ba ba," he shook his head. "No. Oaths one thing. Control another, eh? Too risky, don't want Empire druids blowing up, eh? That close to Oghams? Lear says Winds very, very strong. Lear says you strong," he said with a nod. "Too strong, to not know how to be near Oghams, yes?"

Magnus knew well the stories of Laurelorn, and Mena had lived through it. His mother had nearly killed herself channeling through the Dawnstone Pinnacle, though that had been a Waystone Nexus. The Ogham Stones seemed only somewhat similar, and given the difficulties that the Magisters had suffered thus far, Magnus could imagine why the Albion Druids did not want any of their spells to go wild amidst the sacred circle.

"If they fight alongside the blocks, they can show you how much control they really have, Chieftain Mardudd," Magnus said. "Is that acceptable?"

"Mmmm...eh, guess so. They stay with your blocks, though," Mardudd waggled a hand. "Will make this easy. One horn blast? Hold. Two? Horsemen come in. Three? Forward. Four? Retreat, run. Simple, eh?"

Many nods answered the question.

"Okay. Now then," Mardudd looked at them again, or Magnus more specifically. "You come to circle, or stay here? Both important. Keep Dirachs from leaving circle. Keep other Fimir from helping Dirarchs at circle, eh? Pick quick while we move, eh?"

With his part said, the man wheeled his horse about, and the march began again.

Less than half an hour later, they could see the piled and crudely shaped stone shape in the distance, as well as a visible if dim column of multi-colored light, both of which emerged out of a swamp a small distance away from one another.

"Castle on edge," Mardudd pointed to the north, "Circle within," he pointed straight into the swamp, towards the distant light. "I trust my sons and daughters to hold in the blocks, but I go to the circle. These are my lands. Protecting the Oghams was my responsibility," he hissed.

Thankfully, by that point, Magnus had already made his decision.

"Whatever comes next, we're with you Magnus," Mena said with a firm nod.

"Hear hear," Reinhardt smiled.

What Did Magnus Decide? (Choose One From Each):
Moratorium 6 Hours.

[] The Castle: The bulk of the Fimir Force will be here either within or around, as will the bulk of the assembled Albionese and Imperial forces, ready to receive the Fimir once the 'Fenbeasts' break down the gates and walls and provoke them. The currently finicky magics of the wizards may be of some use here, but Imperial steel will be of certain use. Command will apparently go to Mardudd's eldest daughter, Aberfa, as well as a number of other nobles over those who they recruited from their own holdings. The Imperials will be on the right flank, due to not quite knowing for certain just how fighting in a more integrated manner might go. The Blue Wolves will wait on the flanks along with the rest of the Albionese Cavalry.
[] The Oghams: There will be only the most elite Fimir Warriors and powerful Dirachs - or Balefiends, to use the Imperial terminology. One can apparently only even approach with a glyph of declared protection scrawled upon their person, as well as the presence of a Druid. Even worse, to get there one must try and creep through a deadly Albionese marsh to get there. Mardudd intends to join in on this effort himself. Twenty five of the best Greatswords will accompany Magnus in this, as too many bodies might ruin the entire point of attempting stealth through the marsh. None of the cavalry could even begin to try and make their way through the marsh. This will be done on foot, or not at all.

AND

[] Full Trident: Mena and Reinhardt will fight side by side with Magnus, whatever his choice.
[] Shifted Tines: Mena and Reinhardt might be better placed elsewhere. (Write In Where Mena and Reinhardt will be deployed)

Clan Glyldŵrlyr Forces
Chieftain Mardudd (Claymore, Axe, Half-Plate)
1 Druid Lear
1 Druid Iona
300 Albion Nobles (Half-Plate, Claymores, Axes)
100 Albion Mounted Nobles (Half-Plate, Claymores, Axes)
500 Albion Light Cavalry (Javelins, Spears, Axes, Chainmail/Leathers)
1,000 Albion Heavy Infantry (Halberds, Spears, Swords, Axes, Half/Quarter-Plate)
1,000 Albion Skirmishers (Javelins, Slings, Swords, Chainmail/Leathers)
500 Albionese Longbowmen

Imperial Forces On Albion
Magnus Redfist, the Screaming Bull, Heir of Ostland, wielding Runefang Brain Wounder
Mena von Kessel, the Blue Wolf, Heir of Nordland, wielding enchanted items Flammenfaust (Gauntlet) and Flammenwulf (Axe)
Reinhardt Hertwig, the Silver Manticore, Heir of Ostermark, wielding standard issue Imperial Zweihander
1 Amber Magister Alric, 5 Amber Journeymen
1 Jade Magister Carlotta
1 Jade Journeyman Boris
1 Bright Magister Casparan Smokewrought
1 Bright Journeyman Henry
1 Bright Journeyman Nicolas
1 Bright Journeyman Luthor Feuerstag
1 Bright Journeyman Helmut Cinderblade
1 Bright Journeyman Jovi Grabner
2,000 Blue Wolves, Lightly Armored Cavalry/Skirmishers (Melee Equipment Varies Heavily. All Possess Shortbows, 500 Possess Crossbows)
200 Ostland Greatswords
500 Knights of the Everlasting Light (Only 100 Have Horses)