Chapter 4 Nagash: Battle of Heffengen:
Defenders of Heffengen: The Battle of Heffengen would be the first battle of the renewed Chaos Invasion. It was not a hasty garrison, but a well-ordered army led by the Emperor himself. "If confidence could win battles, it would have been over before the first trumpet call".
Emperor Karl Franz: Karl Franz could have delegated leadership to someone else, but too many people were looking towards Valten for leadership, and disunity could not be tolerated at this time. He needed to set an example for his men.
Reiksmarshal Kurt Helborg: Helborg expected to die at Heffengen. He's had nightmares for weeks of a giant Plague Daemon killing him, and he knew that it was in the enemy's forces. Few could tell that he harbored such thoughts from his demeanour, remaining as callously regimental as he always was.
The Army of Sigmar: Army of Flagellants.
Reiksguard Inner Circle
Steil's Swords: Altdorfer regiment.
Vlad von Carstein: Vlad held no love for the Empire's people, and his motivations were murky, but it was clear he was playing the game of survival as best he could. This could be achieved by assisting the Empire.
Estroth the Silent
The Rackspire Dead
Despoilers of Ostermark: This was no organised band with a clear leader. They were a chaotic mess of lesser incursions each set to prove themselves to the Chaos Gods.
Crom the Conqueror: Archaon Everchosen's champion, he hacked his way to the top of the Kurgan before he was sent by Archaon down south, likely so he could die because he posed a threat. Vardek Crom didn't care, he only desired glory and was set to receive it.
Akkorak the Crow
The Sons of Nifflecht
The Claws of Skael
The Wildkin of Hraldar
The Unclean
The Stormborn Legion
Kruld's Rampagers
The Battle:
The profile section was a lazy mess, but I legit don't care. This battle doesn't deserve that effort. Most of it doesn't matter. I'll link to the wiki pages for most of them, it's your choice whether you want to read it.
This battle is incredibly lousy on any sort of military strategy and even I can see it with my untrained eye. The Battle is about to take place on the north side of Heffengen, which if you have access to maps of Ostermark you should know has a river east of it and hills to the west. Instead of setting the battlefield in an advantageous geographic position or evacuating Heffengen so they could use the city and its walls as a staging ground, Karl Franz decides that no, we're going to be fighting on the Revesnecht Plains, an open field.
The Empire, with all its overwhelming ranged advantages and artillery and trains and handgunners, decided to fight the Norscans and Kurgan and Chaos Warriors in all their Cavalry and charging goodness on an open field. ON AN OPEN FIELD NED.
Supposedly, the reason for this is that the walls of Heffengen were not well maintained and couldn't handle an attack, so clearly the next best option is to fight the enemy on the plains. And in case you're wondering, very little mention of Imperial Cavalry is noted aside from the Reiksguard. Putting aside the baffling nature of Heffengen, a major town, not having well maintained walls during the End Times, the whole circumstance is absolutely baffling and simply set for ease of writing. It's not as if the writing puts any effort at all at presenting any sort of military mindedness or descriptiveness. No mention is made of actual formations or ditches or traps or any other form of preparation by the Imperials despite them having some prep time.
The battle began at Dawn, a day after the Emperor's arrival. It would take place at Revesnecht plain, with a deep flowing River Revesnecht to the Empire's eastern flank that Karl Franz hoped would support them. It's barely mentioned outside of one maneuver that the Emperor himself doesn't perform.
General Godfrei Talb was in charge of the eastern flanks leading a dozen regiments from Ostermark. He was further supported by Grub Kineater's Bloodfist Mercenaries hired by Karl Franz, and both Valten and Luthor Huss leading the Army of Sigmar's Flagellants. The Army of Sigmar were placed in the extreme flank by Karl Franz out of fear of their unpredictable nature.
The western end was exclusively from Talabheim lead under General Garrat Mecke, a contender for Elector Count of Talabecland after Helmut Feurbach's disappearance. He was the only sane person other than the bloodthirsty Reiksmarshal Helborg who looked forward to the battle, as he was excited to prove his valour to rise up the ranks. Karl Franz knew of this, but he tolerated the lesser evil of ambition for the moment.
The central flank was held by Karl Franz' Reiksguard and Altdorfer regiments. The Altdorfers were placed in a double line a mile from Heffengen's gates. Everyone knew what to expect as the arrival of the horde was heralded by eager reavers, raiders and carrion birds. Prayers to Sigmar, Ulric and Taal and flagellant whips were heard as the battle drew near.
The descriptions here completely transform into a narrative recounting of the battle with very little description of the actual maneuvering, so things quickly become incoherent. There's talk of the droning of millions of Daemon flies, the sonorous chanting of Nurgle's tallymen, the raucous rumbling of drums, the blast of Empire cannons from their line, Hochland rifles firing, and the Northmen crashing into the lines of Imperial spears. The Northmen are bloodthirsty and they charge towards their goal of Heffengen without care of their losses, and leading the central regiment, one of many leaders, is Gurug'ath, diminished by his failures and angry at being sealed for two months.
The Northmen's charge was completely uneven and uncoordinated, so they charged the central line without thinking to keep the flanks embattled. The Altdorfers took the brunt of the charge and five whole regiments were destroyed as a result, but they held the line so the second line of Altdorfers and the Reiksguard led by Kurt Helborg could make a counter charge and slice through the Northmen ranks. Kurt's glee at his Runefang's motions was palpable and provided a morale boost to the men who loved him.
The next charge was led by Gurug'ath with Skaeling tribesmen at his back. This charge was met by support from the western flank's firearms led by Garrat Mecke, who was not charged because the Northmen are idiots, and their guns and cannons slammed into them. No mention is made of the possible friendly fire from such a thing, but I told you that the narrative was a mess here. Very little detail is actually provided for how the battlefield actually looks, so it's some formless limbo of what the author wants it to be for the moment.
The Army of Sigmar from the eastern flank also can't hold themselves back, and they charge into Gurug'ath and the Skaelings with Valten and Huss at the lead, Sigmar's golden light shining over Valten's brow. Now the Skaelings are suffering from gun and cannon fire on their right flank and a flagellant charge on their left flank.
We cut briefly to Helborg:
Kurt Helborg's normally grim countenance twisted into a savage smile. His runefang hacked down, splitting the leering skull-helm of a northlander chief. Gods, he thought, there was no greater joy than this; a sea of foes, a righteous cause and good men at his back. What more could a warrior desire?
The Reiksmarshal urged his warhorse deeper into the horde, scarcely aware of the cheering around him. Helborg's sword felt like a thing alive in his hand, hungry as he for the blood of the foe. Let the northlanders think themselves the better men, Helborg thought. He would prove them wrong this day.
A colossal plague daemon loomed out of the armoured ranks, barrelling aside its own followers in his haste to join the battle. All at once, the cheers of the Reiksguard faded away, the sound's absence penetrating Helborg's mind in a way that its recent presence never had.
The Reiksmarshal did not so much as hesitate. 'Come on, you scum!' he roared at his men, standing tall in his saddle. 'I'll not have it said that the Reiksguard ran from that sagging sack of flesh! For Karl Franz! For the Empire!'
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The Reiksguard charge to the center of the horde where the massive plague daemon lies, Helborg having determined him as a leader that needs to be killed. The Reiksguard charge with their lances and eviscerate their enemies until they blunt at the green folds of flesh of the Greater Daemon who laughs at them because what did they expect. He then screams as Helborg lays onto him with his Runefang and slices his arm almost clear to the bone with two good blow, and the Daemon, enraged, flails and strikes Helborg from his steed, causing the Marshal to fall around his dead and dying knights.
Karl Franz was observing the battlefield from on high, advised by Ludwig Schwartzhelm and Kurt to not interfere for fear of his safety. However, seeing the Reiksmarshal fall from his steed, he knew this was a turning point in the battle and he needed to intervene. The Northmen could be regaining their morale with the death of Kurt, so he ignored the warnings and charge with Deathclaw and his Runefang at hand, his Griffon clawing Gurug'ath's back leaving the Daemon screaming as his ichor poured over the fields.
Meanwhile, the Skaelings were losing against the Army of Sigmar badly, the Flagellants smashing through them with no discipline and all zeal. The raiders grew soft with slim pickings that they didn't expect such a powerful resistance, and they were faltering. A Chieftain screamed out a challenge before being smashed by Ghal Maraz in Valten's hand, and Luthor Huss was laying about him with divine fervour. The power of Sigmar was apparent, while the Dark Gods did not care for their servants.
The cheers of the Army of Sigmar inspired the eastern flank, consisting of vengeful Ostermarkers and hungry Ogres, to charge into the fray themselves. Eager for revenge or a good meal, things were looking up for them, until the cheers died when the plate clad Kurgan arrived.
The Army of Sigmar's flails served them well against the fur clad Norscans, but it helped them little against the Warriors of Chaos. Long story short, the flagellants are killed on short notice by Vardek Crom's plate clad men, with the only point still standing being Valten and Huss' holy ground. The Ostermarkers quickly reform to meet the Kurgan charge flying at them and using their crossbows for support fire, but it doesn't do much because they're fighting plate armored knights. Many Kurgans die to the spears of the Ostermarkers, but a second charge from their flank now that the Army of Sigmar is dead leads to the Ostermarkers becoming history. The Ogres aren't stupid and they can see the tide has changed, Grub Kineater most of all seeing General Talb's brains splattered, but he knows that retreat is not possible at this time so he and his Ogres go ham.
Vlad sees the Kurgan charge on the Ogres of the east flank, and he knows that it is now time to strike. The Kurgan's eastern flank was undefended, and it is here that Vlad reveals that he's hidden his undead forces underneath the River Renesvecht days in advance in preparation for such a situation.
From the summit of the ruined watchtower, Balthasar Gelt watched silently as the Kurgan counter-attack tore the Ostermark line apart. As little as a month ago, he would have felt that his place was amongst his fellow countrymen. Now he watched their deaths without a flicker of emotion. Sometimes the wizard worried at how quickly the echoes of his previous life were fading, but the feeling never lasted for longer than a heartbeat.
'They are children squabbling in imitation of their elders. Neither side truly understands the stakes at play.' Vlad observed, moving to the wizard's side. The vampire's tone was almost sad, thought Gelt. It was somehow out of place.
'And you do, I suppose?' Gelt asked wearily. He had meant for his words to carry a sardonic tone, but somehow he could not muster the defiance. It was as if the more time he spent with Vlad, the less vibrant his own thoughts and wishes became.
'I am here, and stand ready to help defend a throne I once sought to claim,' the vampire replied mildly. 'That should be answer enough.'
Gelt gave no reply, and simply watched as his ally – his master – peered out across the Revesnecht plain. What have you become? a voice screamed inside the wizard's head, then fell silent as the von Carstein turned to face him once more.
'I think, at last, it is time for us to make our presence felt,' Vlad announced. 'Are you prepared?'
Gelt inclined his head. 'Yes, master.'
'Good. Then we shall begin.'
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Vlad and his undead army, which included his Drakenhof Templars and Balthasar Gelt his apprentice, charged out of the river and slammed into the less guarded eastern flank of the Kurgans. Caught between the slab sided muscular Ogres and the Undead forces of Vlad, the Kurgans were in a rough place. They tried to give themselves room to breath with their Rot Shaman spells and such, but all the murder they inflicted was dealt back to them. Gelt used his newfound Necromantic magic to raise the Ostermarkers' many dead to turn them against the Kurgan forces. The tide of battle had turned.
Further north, Valten and Huss fought alongside the last remnant of the Army of Sigmar, a faint score of survivors fighting back against the Kurgan. No one could best the flaxen haired youth and his companion, so Vardek Crom had to personally enter the fray.
Here, things get a bit wonky. A fight scene ensues with Huss spurring his steed forwards so he can swing his hammer at Crom, which Crom batters away with his shield. He then swings his axe to sever the front leg of Huss' sword, and then Crom stabs down with his sword. Notice something? He uses a shield, axe and then sword without any description of him switching weapons or describing how it works. This will keep happening over and over without explanation. If you're thinking that maybe he has three arms, no, Crom is a well documented character with two arms who has mechanics for switching his weapons in game that aren't represented here.
Impromptu rant over, Crom is about to kill Huss who desperately fights back in a futile attempt before he is saved by Valten. Crom tries to block Ghal Maraz and his shield is destroyed. It is here that it's first mentioned that Valten got a horse from Karl Franz, which wasn't presented to us before this moment, so it feels out of place, but apparently he used the horse to get there fast enough. Crom swings back at the horse to do the same thing that he did on Huss' horse on Valten's, but this horse is better trained and dodges Crom's axe, leaving his blade exposed. Valten uses this opportunity to swing down and smash Crom's sword.
Notice something weird there? That's how it was described. The Axe suddenly turns into a sword and Valten breaks it, which leaves Crom with only his axe. The author has no idea how to write fight scenes or he was on a deadline, don't know which. Editor didn't do a good enough pass. Whatever, they continue their fight. Crom has already taste Ghal Maraz's strikes twice before and he wouldn't do it a third time, so now he starts bobbing and weaving and never actually blocking Maraz because that's a stupid idea.
Valten was not a match for Crom's skill. The Warlord kept his axe in constant arcs to keep Valten guessing at where the next blow would come from, and every time Valten swung his hammer it came only a hair's breadth from Crom, yet Crom's strikes whittled Valten down. One missed swing from Valten led to Crom pushing inwards and knocking Valten down from his steed, and he swung down for the killing blow.
Thankfully for Valten, he wasn't alone. Huss was injured by the battering he took from Crom when he got knocked down, but he jumped in to use all of his force to hold back Crom's arm with both of his own. Such was the warlord's strength that he could only slow it down a moment, but that was all Valten needed. Valten grabbed Ghal Maraz and swung it at Vardek Crom's armored chest, crumpling the armor and pulping his flesh. Another strike on Crom's helm, and Archaon's Champion was eliminated, released from the mortal world.
The Kurgan eastern line began to crumble with Crom's death. Vlad smiled at the turn of the tides as he ordered his forces to support Grub Kineater, until he witnessed the Ogre's mad mauling of every chaos warrior near him. He readjusted his plan. He didn't know if the Ogre knew the Undead were on his side and he didn't want to try and find out by being turned into a smear. I have to say, Grub Kineater is one of the better parts here. It's hard to describe, but he's so lighthearted in all this mess that I can't help but feel he's good comic relief. Ogres, you know.
Anyways, the western flank, the Talabheimers, are now going to suffer their own charge from Akkorak the Crow, who keeps boasting about his incredible titles and that he leads the Kul and etc. etc. it's incredibly boring. I'm already sick of this. The Kul charge against the Talabheimers, the Talabheimers open fire with cannons and gunfire but they mess up and do it too early so a bunch of misses happen. The Talabheimers begin to tremble and get scared because apparently none of them wanted to die for a rival state, so they begin taking steps back while the artillery remain steady, resulting in the lines withdrawing ever so slightly oh give me a break this is garbage. Take a look at this embarrassment:
"Amongst the Talabheimers was the Amethyst wizard Albrecht Morrstan. Like many wizards of his college, Morrstan had been irrevocably transformed when Nagash had grounded death magic in Sylvania. Not long ago, he had been a creature of flesh and blood; now he trod uneasily on the border between life and death. Ever a recluse, Morrstan had spent the last few weeks completely apart from the other citizens of Heffengen, deliberately concealing his affliction. Yet, though he was little more than a ghostly echo of his former self, Morrstan was still a faithful son of the Empire. He had joined the battle line at dawn, trusting his robes to conceal the ghastly truth from his countrymen, constantly fearful of discovery.
Now, in the moment before Akkorak's charge crashed home against the wavering men of Talabheim, Morrstan proved his loyalty. The wizard threw back his cloak and began to chant. Nearby soldiers recoiled at the sight of his translucent form, but Morrstan paid it no heed. The ground before him cracked and warped as a swirling purple globe thrust its way through the topsoil. With a flick of his hands, the wizard sent the globe into the oncoming horde. All at once, the discipline of the charge felt apart. The leading ranks hauled on reins and bellowed at their steeds in their attempts to evade the incoming spell, and many succeeded. The rearward ranks, however, were nowhere near so fortunate. With no warning save the desperate panic of their fellows, few that came behind saw the purple sun before it was too late; they were swallowed by the globe and instantly transmuted to lifeless statues of crimson-veined crystal.
Morrstan saw none of this. When the wizard had revealed his ghostly form, Garrat Mecke had recovered his wits quicker than any of his men. Alas, he saw not what Morrstan had done, only what he was. Pausing only to kiss the silver-chased barrel of his pistol, the general sent a blessed bullet hammering into the wizard's ghostly skull. Morrstan wailed once as the shot ripped through him; a heartbeat later, his empty robes collapsed to the ground. Without the wizard's guiding hand, the swirling purple globe dissipated immediately, but his last act had not been in vain. Where once had loomed an unstoppable host of knights, now stood a field of crystal simulacra." Page 315-316
Whatever. Akkorak doesn't stop his charge, he continues, the Talabheimers get slammed.
Perspective changes to Gurug'ath being clawed by Deathclaw, who strafes and kites him with blows while Karl Franz takes pot shots from above with Dragon Tooth his Runefang, clipping and slicing bits and pieces of the Greater Daemon. I'll save you the trouble, but while Helborg is recovering from under him and using his Runefang to kill a bunch of Plaguebearers, Karl Franz managed to kill Gurug'ath, but I have to say the mvp is Deathclaw, because the narrative spends like 80% of the page talking about the damage the loyal bird is doing. He's the best. Not that it matters, but Helborg's jealous that Franz got the final blow. Will Helborg's glory hound feelings ever be relevant? Probably not this is End Times.
Deathclaw took to the skies, where Karl Franz gets a commanding view of the battlefield. The Empire is winning, but at a cost. The Daemons are fading, the northlanders are losing, the centre is holding, being reinforced under the leadership of Valten and Huss. The western flank is being decimated by Akkorak and the Kul, but they're taking as much damage back by the Talabheimers. The eastern flank, however, is being supported by the unasked for help of Vlad and Gelt, and Karl Franz connects the dots and figures out what's happened to Gelt. He swore to take revenge for the Patriarch's sundered honor, but not now. For now it was enough that they had won. Until a trumpet sounded.
Vlad was distracted from strangling a plate clad warrior by the sound, which he recognised. He let a small smile cross his lips as he saw the flying forces of the Blood Dragons led by Walach Harkon on his Skeletal Dragon flying closer to the battle. A greater margin of victory was always welcome, and even a brute like Harkon could be welcome at times.
Well, that was until Vlad noticed that not all of Harkon's forces were undead. Some were clad in Chaos Plate and riding beasts of brass and cinder, charging not onto the Chaos Hordes, but rather half charged onto Gelt's skeletons and half onto the centre of Reiksguard and Altdorfers. Vlad cursed at the realisation that the idiot Walach Harkon fell to Khorne's promises and took his Drakenhof Templars west to take Harkon on personally, leaving Gelt to fend for himself.
In the skies, Karl Franz on Deathclaw met Walach Harkon on his Undead Dragon in aerial combat, the two crossing blades. Runefang vs Ancient Templar Blade. By all rights he should have died, as he wasn't a match for a Vampire with millennia of experience, for Harkon was one of the foremost knights of his order. But Sigmar was with Franz that day, for he survived.
The centre line was buckling. The northlanders were inspired by the Blood Dragon charge, which caused the Altdorfers to break and start fleeing. Reiksmarshal Kurt Helborg held the line even at a time when it seemed all was lost, refusing to admit defeat.
Then Karl Franz fell from the sky, blood trailing from his open chest. His loyal Griffon sought revenge and received a broken wing in return, plummeting from the sky.
From the very start, Karl Franz had known that he was overmatched. Harkon was too swift. The vampire had parried every blow with ridiculous ease, but no longer was there any chance to choose another path. The duel had begun; now there was only victory or death.
Again Deathclaw dived towards the dragon, and again the Emperor struck at his crimson-armoured foe. This time the parry was followed by a lightning-swift riposte. Karl Franz had just enough time to realise that the vampire had been toying with him before the sword pierced his breastplate and ripped deep into his chest. In the same moment, the dragon twisted in midair, seizing Deathclaw in its talons, and preventing the griffon from flying its injured master to safety.
'You're a fool!' Harkon spat at his bloodied foe. 'This is no time for mortal men. This is the hour of the gods, and of those who would become gods!'
'Even gods can fall,' Karl Franz breathed, the words ragged as his strength fled his body.
Lost in visions of glory, the raving vampire didn't hear the Emperor speak; nor did he see the runefang until its point lanced upward, carving a wicked furrow across his gaunt cheek and taking out his left eye. With a howl of pain, the vampire clapped a hand over his ruined face, and wrenched his sword from the Emperor's flesh.
Karl Franz saw the bloody blade come free, but knew no pain, only a desperate tiredness. Falling free of his mount, the Emperor closed his eyes, and felt the world spin around him.
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Not gonna lie, "Even Gods can fall" is one hell of a line. Charismatic to the end, Karl Franz that fellow.
Anyways, with Karl Franz' fall, the Imperial Army routs. The Talabheimers were the first to throw doing their weapons and flee, and Garrat Mecke's attempts at restoring order were met with a mutineer's sword in his gut, which IMO he 100% deserved. The Reiksguard and Altdorfers run away, with Kurt Helborg carrying Ludwig Schwartzhelm's unconscious body that he personally knocked out because he wanted to ride to the Emperor's body and collect it, the only way Kurt won the argument was through the karate chop to the neck I guess. Valten carried Huss back to Heffengen, the Army of Sigmar completely annihilated with only them as survivors. Grub Kineater is still as cheerful as ever despite half his mercenaries being dead and his left ear being gone, but he knows that it's time to live another day so he retreats to Heffengen too. Even Gelt looks on in sadness for a moment at the whole situation before he leaves his horde of undead, taking off on Quicksilver.
Later on that day, towards the night really, Heffengen is breached and becomes a Daemon infested hell hole. Dunno what happened to the people who ran away there, but at least Valten and Huss survived for sure. Hope Kineater too, he was fun.
There's a small section after the battle where Walach Harkon and Vlad… resolve their differences shall we say. Harkon destroys the Drakenhof Templars and pins Vlad down with his Dragon's talons, and instead of killing him he does one of the classic villanous blunders. Monologuing.
Walach Harkon always hated the arrogance of the Von Carsteins, so he takes great pains to spend his time talking about how Khorne gave him a better offer of endless battle rather than Nagash's boring old sterile world and how it would be so much better and there would be no place for Vlad and etc. etc.
Vlad does what you'd expect. He takes advantage of the monologue to tug on the strings of Dhar holding the Dragon together to take control of it, bucking Harkon off and pinning him down with the Dragon's talons. Vlad performs a mocking Blood Dragon salute and signals the Dragon. The Dragon rips Harkon apart. Blood Dragons suck at magic compared to a Von Carstein like Vlad. The whole thing is shameful really.
Vlad gets on the Dragon and contemplates things. He flies to Sylvania, and prays for the first time in a very, very long time. Not to a god, he can't remember who he even used to worship. He prayed that Nagash would be the salvation he claimed to be.
The tattooed sentry was slumped by his watchfire, drunk on ale and memories of slaughter. He made no sound save a whimper as the point of the sword slid into his heart. The killer caught the northlander's body with his good arm, and lowered the corpse to the ground. The man felt a sharp flash of pain as he did so, the exertion tugging at the deep gash in his breast.
The man winced. He knew he was fortunate to be alive, that the magic of his amulet was the only thing that kept his heart beating. Even so, he could feel bones grating in his chest, and the ragged motion of an ailing lung. His left arm was broken in at least two places, and throbbed against the makeshift splint.
Yet the intruder's greatest stroke of fortune was to have gone undiscovered amongst the carnage. He should have been found, but the northlanders loved plunder as much as any race, and had seen a greater prize in Heffengen than in the battlefield dead. The town still blazed in the distance, bestial howls dancing amongst the flames as yet another bastion of civilisation fell into darkness. The man felt his anger rise and shook his head to clear it. Dawn was coming, and with it the first northmen would stir from beneath their furs. He had to be gone by then.
The man picked his way through the slumbering horde, taking shelter in the lee of tents and the festering piles of dead awaiting the bonfire. Monstrous hounds lay sleeping alongside their masters, spines and quills twitching with each somnolent breath. These, the man gave a wide berth, for he knew such beasts seldom slept deeply. His only hope was that his own scent would be lost amongst the encampment's reeking odour. At last, amidst the ruin of a copse felled for firewood, the intruder found what he was looking for.
The griffon was bound by chains and tethered by great wooden stakes hammered into the ground. It was motionless save for the rhythmic rise and fall of its mighty chest. The creature slept, or seemed to do so. Even in the dark, the killer could see that the griffon's plumage was crusted with blood, from the injuries that had caused its capture, and from more recent gashes where northlanders had taunted it with blades, or set their hounds on it for sport.
Skirting the ashes of a campfire and the fur-draped brutes slumped around it, the intruder moved quickly to the griffon's side and ran his hand across the beast's flank. A yellow eye flickered open, the gleaming pupil twitching in obvious recognition.
'Wake up, old friend,' Karl Franz whispered. 'You and I still have work to do, if you yet have the strength for it?'
The griffon gave an indignant hiss and ruffled its feathers, causing the Emperor to smile for the first time in many long hours. Then, gripped by sudden purpose, Karl Franz brought his runefang down on the nearest of the chains. Behind him, one of the hounds stirred to wakefulness and began to howl…
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That is the end of Chapter 4. What do you think?
