Nachgeheim 2502 - Turn 2.3
- Location
- Singapore
Nachgeheim, 2502
Morrsleib Burns
At the break of dawn you and the army set out from Altdorf into the Reikwald, and as planned the army separates off into independent patrols the deeper you go into the cursed woods. First to break off are the Wizards, who follow the ephemeral Winds of Magic as much as they do the plan. Then your forces are further divided, each group of State Troops supported by a squad of Imperial Foot and a squadron of knights, until all that remains with you are fifty-odd soldiers of the Empire, a bunch of Longshanks, a Warrior Priest of Taal, your own knights, and the Grey Magister.
The plan, unfortunately, is complicated from the beginning. With so few men and so much ground to cover, you are forced to divide up your forces into individual patrols, to hammer at suspected Herdstone locations where the brayherds are expected to mass before the invasion begins and the Beastlord shows himself. With their numbers whittled down and your forces relatively preserved - in theory - you will then challenge the monster yourself and kill him - and while realistically speaking you have little chance against something like a Beastlord, everything changes once you have a Runefang in hand. The artifice of the Dwarfs is like that.
The theory, therefore, was to have each patrol flank the brayherds while the villages, thusly fortified, act as the main front.
The execution, however...
[Hunting the Herds, DC 50/80: 99 +86(Explode) +5(Taal's Blessing) +10(Fey Paths) +10(Wizards), 210]
Perhaps it is the Will of Taal. Perhaps the Amber Wizard Lord who claimed the Reikwald decided to flex a little bit. Perhaps you remember the elven paths better than you thought you did. In any case, over the next week all patrols find themselves successfully outflanking beastmen and shattering warherds utterly with magic, faith, and lances aplenty.
It brings to mind your trek through the woods with the elves. Walking long forgotten paths beneath the bush, somehow wandering the forests better than the Beastmen could. More than once you were part of an ambush against the Beastmen, for once having the initiative against the monstrous hordes. It brings a smile to your face knowing that you were able to replicate what you saw the Asur manage with ease during the Long March.
And with superior mobility comes opportunity.
[Going Deeper: 43 +18 (Johanna) +5 (Taal's Blessing) +40 (Super-Critical), 106]
Some would consider this hubris. Most would say that when it comes to outmaneuvering the Beastmen, you shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch - because otherwise they turn into cockatrices and melt your face off. But you push boldly forward, looking for the source. What's riled them up - what's given them the confidence to mass for another invasion like this?
And you find it. Pass the bone-white trees and the blood-red shrubbery and the clattering skulls that hung from the branches is a clearing with a shrine to their dark gods, built over the shattered ruins of a tainted waystone. Where once stood a stone pillar now stands a jagged, uneven mound of red crystal that pulsed with hatred and corruption and blood, surrounded by a warherd of its own that dances and cavorts amidst its fell energies. How long this has been around does not matter. It likely predates the Empire; you suspect that no one has ever made it this far into the Reikwald. But you have found it.
And now it needs destroying.
You retreat with your patrol and burn one of the leaves from von Raukov's satchel. Within hours the Wizard Lord comes, followed by the Amber Magister, their gender unknown beneath the wolfskin they wear. "We found a shrine to their dark gods," you say tersely to him. "The plan changes. We destroy it, here and now."
He snarls and sniffs at the air. Magister Lord Taran growls and a flock of ravens land obediently before him. One by one they head off with messages for the other patrols, but most importantly the wizards and priests. They, most of all, will be needed to destroy this damned place.
You gather your patrol and tell them the plan before enforcing a two hour rest. They will need to be the vanguard of an assault in the very heart of beastmen territory. And beneath Morrsleib's glare, you note darkly as you peer up and see it through the canopy, despite the sun shining on you.
And you expected to be patrolling roads and fighting off hunting parties instead. Such is life for you and your brother. Never a dull moment.
----
On the third day of this ad hoc campaign, you give the order to attack. Over a hundred men, an assorted group of swordsmen, spearmen and crossbowmen, guided by Taal's Longshanks and supported by a squad of Imperial Foot and a squadron of a newly established Knight Order, against hundreds of beastmen. Ungors, centigors, minotaurs, a handful of bray shaman.
[Seizing the Shrine: 48 +18 (Johanna) +16 (Taran von Raukov) +10 (The Colleges of Magic) -10 (Morrsleib Burns) +20 (Critical), 102]
You crush them all the same; when the ever-present shadows of the Reikwald start burning its denizens right before a thunderous cavalry charge, there is very little that can fight back. And you made sure to kill every Beastman of note with Beast Slayer, just in case. When Reinhard arrives with his patrol, he was pleasantly surprised to see the battle already over, men piling up corpses and chopping down wood for palisades and firewood. Soon the rest of the army arrives, and while the priests go about their work all that is left to do is wait and fight.
The response is immediate. Amidst a land that makes your skin crawl and your mind fray, beneath the gaze of damned Morrsleib, the forest becomes a cacophony of braying and howling beasts. And all at once, beastmen flood out from the treeline, screaming bloody murder as they come for their holy land.
[First Clash in the Woods: 34 +10 (Reikland's Finest) +18 (Johanna) +30 (Fortified) +15 (Wizards) +10 (Shock Commander) vs 22 +15 (Overwhelming Numbers) +10 (Morrsleib Burns) +10 (Land of Evil), 117 vs 57]
And they die upon rows and rows of pikes, cut down by swords, and then trampled upon by sallies of knights of the Empire. Men die, of course. Nerves always fray in battle, and with Morrsleib above and corruption in the soil it was inevitable that some men would falter. But to your surprise, the majority do not. The shieldwall holds, no matter how many monsters roar in black tongues and no matter how many men stare death in the eye.
And then you see a hulking horse-headed mass of flesh and tattered fur, wielding a barbed axe fashioned from the scraps of a dozen broken weapons, charge right for your lines with a dozen minotaurs, and you know the Beastlord has finally come. You order a gap in the shieldwall open just long enough for you and your knights to ride out, and with halberd in one hand and Runefang in the other, you face the monster in its lair.
[The Lady and the Beastlord: 13 30 +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 42 +30 (Martial) +10 (Land of Evil) +10 (Morrsleib Burns), 69 86 vs 92]
[Reroll Spent - One Left]
The first clash would have thrown you off your horse had you not seen it. With reflexes and keen insight you adjust your angle just so and deflect the worst of it off Beast Slayer, but all the same it nearly slips through your grip. With a snarl you toss your halberd aside and grab Beast Slayer in both hands, with ease that years of rust could never take from you.
There are those who say that men should fight monsters at a distance, with many pikemen for support, but to hell with them. Those are words for men. Those are tactics for mortals.
When your enemy has size and power surpassing yours, your only option is to close the distance. And, if possible, seize the height advantage.
You see the shift in its posture, the rippling of its muscles. The Beastlord couldn't telegraph harder if it sent a courier the day before. You respond with honed instinct, hopping upon your horse and raising Beast Slayer over your head in the same breath.
As it swings up, you swing down.
[The Beasts Without and Within: 34 +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 100 +96 +47 (Explode) +30 (Martial) +10 (Land of Evil) +10 (Morrsleib Burns), 90 vs 293]
But the monster hits first.
You see the chipped blade the moment before it hits. It bites through your plate, past bone and sinew, past your lungs, and through the back of your armour in the same blow. You are flung off your horse as if shot out of a cannon, and when you hit the ground it is in two pieces; the majority of you, still stubbornly holding onto Beast Slayer, and your right arm and shoulder, joined by a significant chunk of your torso.
[War in the Woods 2: 16 +10 (Reikland's Finest) +14 (Reinhard) +30 (Fortified) +15 (Wizards) vs 94 +10 (Superior Numbers) +10 (Morrsleib Burns) +10 (Land of Evil), 85 vs 124]
[Morale Check: 7]
The beastmen cheer as blood spurts out of the gaping wound on your right, but you hear none of it. There is only the pounding of blood and the chill of death screaming in your ears. Your knights are likely faltering and pulling back. The army is likely shattering from your defeat. The priests will be slaughtered and their blood will be used to anoint the shrine and make it even more damned. Beast Slayer will be lost. Reikland will lose thousands of lives. Your brother will be alone.
Unless you stop weeping on the ground and stand up, Johanna!
[Roll Or Die, DC 90: 95]
You take a breath. The bloodflow from your side drops from a river to a trickle. You force yourself onto your feet with Beast Slayer and look around the red-soaked battlefield with absolute detached clarity. In front of you, the beastmen surge with newfound bloodlust. Around you, your knights try to retreat with your body and your weapon. Behind you, the line shatters and breaks like splintered wood.
[Wizard Lord Interrupt! 94]
Until the Wizard Lord disagrees. And with a word of power, instills the stubbornness of an ox into everyone on the battlefield.
You see the Beastlord ahead, still roaring in victory. You go forward, at first in stumbling steps, but with every breath you take more and more strength fills your body.
By the time you reach the monster, it is with fire in your heart and murder in your hands.
[The Dragon Wakes: 88 +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 32 +30 +10 +10, 144 vs 82]
Your first strike with Beast Slayer meets its axe. With a closely held grip and a quickly adapted technique, you shatter his weapon - and hack through the arm that had been holding it. It shrieks in rage as it clutches at the bloodless stump, pointing at you with a clawed finger.
"No! NO!" The Beastlord snarls, spraying dribble in your face. "You DEAD! Panzrek saw! Panzrek KILL!"
You bark a laugh, loud enough to be heard across the battlefield. "Haven't you heard?!"
[Princess of Reikland: 100 +85 (Explode) +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 17 +30 (Martial) +10 (Morrsleib Burns) +10 (Land of Evil), 241 vs 67]
"TIS ONLY A SCRATCH!"
You swing. In one stroke you return the favour tenfold. The Beastlord, Panzrek, falls to the ground. And his legs fall in the other direction.
Victory won, you roar in defiance with Beast Slayer held high. In the span of minutes, what had been about to turn into crushing defeat became rousing victory instead. As the tide turns and the spearwall becomes a charging steel vanguard, you see none of it.
Everything goes black as you pass out on your feet, while your knights starts screaming for the Shallyans.
----
Choose a Perspective
[] Darron von Sternburg, Knight Preceptor of the Iron Arm
[] Reinhard Edelstein, Knight Preceptor of the Grand Order of the Reiksguard
[] Taran von Raukov, Magister Lord of the Amber College
[] Sunnhilde Kantorowicz, Priestess of Shallya
[] Karl Franz von Holswig-Schliestein, Son of Emperors and Emperor Himself
Morrsleib Burns
At the break of dawn you and the army set out from Altdorf into the Reikwald, and as planned the army separates off into independent patrols the deeper you go into the cursed woods. First to break off are the Wizards, who follow the ephemeral Winds of Magic as much as they do the plan. Then your forces are further divided, each group of State Troops supported by a squad of Imperial Foot and a squadron of knights, until all that remains with you are fifty-odd soldiers of the Empire, a bunch of Longshanks, a Warrior Priest of Taal, your own knights, and the Grey Magister.
The plan, unfortunately, is complicated from the beginning. With so few men and so much ground to cover, you are forced to divide up your forces into individual patrols, to hammer at suspected Herdstone locations where the brayherds are expected to mass before the invasion begins and the Beastlord shows himself. With their numbers whittled down and your forces relatively preserved - in theory - you will then challenge the monster yourself and kill him - and while realistically speaking you have little chance against something like a Beastlord, everything changes once you have a Runefang in hand. The artifice of the Dwarfs is like that.
The theory, therefore, was to have each patrol flank the brayherds while the villages, thusly fortified, act as the main front.
The execution, however...
[Hunting the Herds, DC 50/80: 99 +86(Explode) +5(Taal's Blessing) +10(Fey Paths) +10(Wizards), 210]
Perhaps it is the Will of Taal. Perhaps the Amber Wizard Lord who claimed the Reikwald decided to flex a little bit. Perhaps you remember the elven paths better than you thought you did. In any case, over the next week all patrols find themselves successfully outflanking beastmen and shattering warherds utterly with magic, faith, and lances aplenty.
It brings to mind your trek through the woods with the elves. Walking long forgotten paths beneath the bush, somehow wandering the forests better than the Beastmen could. More than once you were part of an ambush against the Beastmen, for once having the initiative against the monstrous hordes. It brings a smile to your face knowing that you were able to replicate what you saw the Asur manage with ease during the Long March.
And with superior mobility comes opportunity.
[Going Deeper: 43 +18 (Johanna) +5 (Taal's Blessing) +40 (Super-Critical), 106]
Some would consider this hubris. Most would say that when it comes to outmaneuvering the Beastmen, you shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch - because otherwise they turn into cockatrices and melt your face off. But you push boldly forward, looking for the source. What's riled them up - what's given them the confidence to mass for another invasion like this?
And you find it. Pass the bone-white trees and the blood-red shrubbery and the clattering skulls that hung from the branches is a clearing with a shrine to their dark gods, built over the shattered ruins of a tainted waystone. Where once stood a stone pillar now stands a jagged, uneven mound of red crystal that pulsed with hatred and corruption and blood, surrounded by a warherd of its own that dances and cavorts amidst its fell energies. How long this has been around does not matter. It likely predates the Empire; you suspect that no one has ever made it this far into the Reikwald. But you have found it.
And now it needs destroying.
You retreat with your patrol and burn one of the leaves from von Raukov's satchel. Within hours the Wizard Lord comes, followed by the Amber Magister, their gender unknown beneath the wolfskin they wear. "We found a shrine to their dark gods," you say tersely to him. "The plan changes. We destroy it, here and now."
He snarls and sniffs at the air. Magister Lord Taran growls and a flock of ravens land obediently before him. One by one they head off with messages for the other patrols, but most importantly the wizards and priests. They, most of all, will be needed to destroy this damned place.
You gather your patrol and tell them the plan before enforcing a two hour rest. They will need to be the vanguard of an assault in the very heart of beastmen territory. And beneath Morrsleib's glare, you note darkly as you peer up and see it through the canopy, despite the sun shining on you.
And you expected to be patrolling roads and fighting off hunting parties instead. Such is life for you and your brother. Never a dull moment.
----
On the third day of this ad hoc campaign, you give the order to attack. Over a hundred men, an assorted group of swordsmen, spearmen and crossbowmen, guided by Taal's Longshanks and supported by a squad of Imperial Foot and a squadron of a newly established Knight Order, against hundreds of beastmen. Ungors, centigors, minotaurs, a handful of bray shaman.
[Seizing the Shrine: 48 +18 (Johanna) +16 (Taran von Raukov) +10 (The Colleges of Magic) -10 (Morrsleib Burns) +20 (Critical), 102]
You crush them all the same; when the ever-present shadows of the Reikwald start burning its denizens right before a thunderous cavalry charge, there is very little that can fight back. And you made sure to kill every Beastman of note with Beast Slayer, just in case. When Reinhard arrives with his patrol, he was pleasantly surprised to see the battle already over, men piling up corpses and chopping down wood for palisades and firewood. Soon the rest of the army arrives, and while the priests go about their work all that is left to do is wait and fight.
The response is immediate. Amidst a land that makes your skin crawl and your mind fray, beneath the gaze of damned Morrsleib, the forest becomes a cacophony of braying and howling beasts. And all at once, beastmen flood out from the treeline, screaming bloody murder as they come for their holy land.
[First Clash in the Woods: 34 +10 (Reikland's Finest) +18 (Johanna) +30 (Fortified) +15 (Wizards) +10 (Shock Commander) vs 22 +15 (Overwhelming Numbers) +10 (Morrsleib Burns) +10 (Land of Evil), 117 vs 57]
And they die upon rows and rows of pikes, cut down by swords, and then trampled upon by sallies of knights of the Empire. Men die, of course. Nerves always fray in battle, and with Morrsleib above and corruption in the soil it was inevitable that some men would falter. But to your surprise, the majority do not. The shieldwall holds, no matter how many monsters roar in black tongues and no matter how many men stare death in the eye.
And then you see a hulking horse-headed mass of flesh and tattered fur, wielding a barbed axe fashioned from the scraps of a dozen broken weapons, charge right for your lines with a dozen minotaurs, and you know the Beastlord has finally come. You order a gap in the shieldwall open just long enough for you and your knights to ride out, and with halberd in one hand and Runefang in the other, you face the monster in its lair.
[The Lady and the Beastlord: 13 30 +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 42 +30 (Martial) +10 (Land of Evil) +10 (Morrsleib Burns), 69 86 vs 92]
[Reroll Spent - One Left]
The first clash would have thrown you off your horse had you not seen it. With reflexes and keen insight you adjust your angle just so and deflect the worst of it off Beast Slayer, but all the same it nearly slips through your grip. With a snarl you toss your halberd aside and grab Beast Slayer in both hands, with ease that years of rust could never take from you.
There are those who say that men should fight monsters at a distance, with many pikemen for support, but to hell with them. Those are words for men. Those are tactics for mortals.
When your enemy has size and power surpassing yours, your only option is to close the distance. And, if possible, seize the height advantage.
You see the shift in its posture, the rippling of its muscles. The Beastlord couldn't telegraph harder if it sent a courier the day before. You respond with honed instinct, hopping upon your horse and raising Beast Slayer over your head in the same breath.
As it swings up, you swing down.
[The Beasts Without and Within: 34 +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 100 +96 +47 (Explode) +30 (Martial) +10 (Land of Evil) +10 (Morrsleib Burns), 90 vs 293]
But the monster hits first.
You see the chipped blade the moment before it hits. It bites through your plate, past bone and sinew, past your lungs, and through the back of your armour in the same blow. You are flung off your horse as if shot out of a cannon, and when you hit the ground it is in two pieces; the majority of you, still stubbornly holding onto Beast Slayer, and your right arm and shoulder, joined by a significant chunk of your torso.
[War in the Woods 2: 16 +10 (Reikland's Finest) +14 (Reinhard) +30 (Fortified) +15 (Wizards) vs 94 +10 (Superior Numbers) +10 (Morrsleib Burns) +10 (Land of Evil), 85 vs 124]
[Morale Check: 7]
The beastmen cheer as blood spurts out of the gaping wound on your right, but you hear none of it. There is only the pounding of blood and the chill of death screaming in your ears. Your knights are likely faltering and pulling back. The army is likely shattering from your defeat. The priests will be slaughtered and their blood will be used to anoint the shrine and make it even more damned. Beast Slayer will be lost. Reikland will lose thousands of lives. Your brother will be alone.
Unless you stop weeping on the ground and stand up, Johanna!
[Roll Or Die, DC 90: 95]
You take a breath. The bloodflow from your side drops from a river to a trickle. You force yourself onto your feet with Beast Slayer and look around the red-soaked battlefield with absolute detached clarity. In front of you, the beastmen surge with newfound bloodlust. Around you, your knights try to retreat with your body and your weapon. Behind you, the line shatters and breaks like splintered wood.
[Wizard Lord Interrupt! 94]
Until the Wizard Lord disagrees. And with a word of power, instills the stubbornness of an ox into everyone on the battlefield.
You see the Beastlord ahead, still roaring in victory. You go forward, at first in stumbling steps, but with every breath you take more and more strength fills your body.
By the time you reach the monster, it is with fire in your heart and murder in your hands.
[The Dragon Wakes: 88 +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 32 +30 +10 +10, 144 vs 82]
Your first strike with Beast Slayer meets its axe. With a closely held grip and a quickly adapted technique, you shatter his weapon - and hack through the arm that had been holding it. It shrieks in rage as it clutches at the bloodless stump, pointing at you with a clawed finger.
"No! NO!" The Beastlord snarls, spraying dribble in your face. "You DEAD! Panzrek saw! Panzrek KILL!"
You bark a laugh, loud enough to be heard across the battlefield. "Haven't you heard?!"
[Princess of Reikland: 100 +85 (Explode) +36 (Martial) +20 (Beast Slayer) vs 17 +30 (Martial) +10 (Morrsleib Burns) +10 (Land of Evil), 241 vs 67]
"TIS ONLY A SCRATCH!"
You swing. In one stroke you return the favour tenfold. The Beastlord, Panzrek, falls to the ground. And his legs fall in the other direction.
Victory won, you roar in defiance with Beast Slayer held high. In the span of minutes, what had been about to turn into crushing defeat became rousing victory instead. As the tide turns and the spearwall becomes a charging steel vanguard, you see none of it.
Everything goes black as you pass out on your feet, while your knights starts screaming for the Shallyans.
----
Choose a Perspective
[] Darron von Sternburg, Knight Preceptor of the Iron Arm
[] Reinhard Edelstein, Knight Preceptor of the Grand Order of the Reiksguard
[] Taran von Raukov, Magister Lord of the Amber College
[] Sunnhilde Kantorowicz, Priestess of Shallya
[] Karl Franz von Holswig-Schliestein, Son of Emperors and Emperor Himself
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