Nordland Campaign: The Count of Plagues, Part 4
Though your cavalry was largely depleted, you still possess the main bulk of your army. It would be possible for you to simply head down the road, and attempt to smash through Gruber's army. But it would be a fight that could result in you losing your own. Should you, through some miracle, avoid this, you would nevertheless likely lose
just almost all. While no doubt what forces remain to Kessel would be able to join you in further operations, that all depends on just how many in fact yet live. If you take too many casualties in the process of rescuing them, you have little doubt that you would be simply unable to rescue either Aurelion or assault Gruber's stronghold at Salzenmund. More than anything being unable to bring him to justice would most certainly infuriate you. Letting the cultist have any more time could result in him doing even worse things to Nordland.
So you must make a decision despite your warring heart and mind. The former aches at the idea of letting Kessel and those who follow him fight on alone for yet longer. Though your scouts tell you that the man's cannon remain viable ammo cannot possibly last in them forever. The second pushes for heading around Gruber's forces, forcing him to redirect them once more, and coming out the other end with the powers of the High Elves alongside you.
While you let your army rest as best they can, sleeping until morning whilst in Nurglite Nordland as they must, you yourself are kept up all night weighing the pros and cons between the two. Should Kessel be dead when you finally do arrive at Luftberg…you may never forgive yourself. After drinking down some Ostka and introducing some of the night owl halflings to it, you then decide that it doesn't matter. You've made your decision, and thus will just have to be that much quicker to reach the Archmage then turn directly south. When the sun struggles to light the way through the clouds of Nordland for the morning, forcing those who were up all night slaying straggler plague zombies to blink blearily, you are already fully dressed in your rebuffed and cleaned armor in the command tent consuming what the halflings call second breakfast.
When the others arrive to partake as well, and after they have gotten down a good amount of food to prepare them for the march ahead, you declare your decision.
The Middenlander's can no longer call you a coward, not after seeing you dive into battle as you did so, but this does not stop them from making vigorous protest when you plan on going north instead of directly into the bulk of the enemies army. You can respect the fact that they just want to get into the thick of it, but it's rather tiring in how they just wish to drive down the throats of the enemy constantly despite the fact that they'll be torn apart by the teeth on the way down. Thankfully your decision is met with agreement everyone else. The Knights Griffon and
Foot agree, Johanna Fuerbach agrees, everyone agrees. The sullen wolf men of Middenland growl and stomp off, but you know that they'll follow your orders.
All that is left to do is organize everyone to march.
Over the next three hours your forces rouse themselves, and wolf down a hearty Halfling meal or two. They'll need the energy, because all the equipment and weight, added in with the slog through Nurglite territory, is going to mean that progress will be grueling to achieve regardless of speed.
(Marching, Day 1 86/100)
The first day goes quite well, only running into a half dozen packs of wailing plague zombies and a single band of plagued Norscans. They do not seem to be heading in any specific direction either, just sort of shambling about. At first you thought that it was intended, as Gruber clearly was prepared for you to send someone towards Luftberg last time and you have no doubt he has
some forces in wait on the way to Heilidorf, but instead after a bit of consideration you realize just what the packs you run into are. They are, in essence, organic defenses.
With no specific orders of their own they would attack anyone who came by, but they are quite effective in combat. You lose a few of your forward scouts in the process of learning this. Using soldiers in the same manner as Gruber would be repulsive to you, but you cannot deny the strength of simply being
insane and not caring about the lives of ones soldiers, especially if apparently they can be reinforced through teleportation and portals. Damned Chaos-licking warpshit.
(Marching Day 2 65/100)
The second day gets much worse. Even as the general corruption of Nordland that got more and more extensive the closer one was to Salzenmund fades, you begin running into the trains of plague zombies, marauders, and Chaos Warriors that are heading towards Aurelion. The High Elves amongst your troop are more than happy to put many of them down with a speed and aim that frankly embarrasses all your archers no matter how veteran they may be. This does not stop a few Bull Warriors from finding their chests and bodies split apart in the process of protecting your long train of forces as they march up the road.
The only solace you can take in this is that every single piece of waste that you kill is one less attacking Aurelion, one less that could go and attack Kessel, and just one less in the world in general. Not too bad of a solace to take, quite honestly. None of your cavalry are affected in this, thankfully, but unfortunately one band of surprisingly clever Norscans lay in wait just beyond the treeline before assaulting the rear of the train. Where the Kislevites were. Though the Ice Mages removed the threat soon afterwards, their Kossar compliment still suffered, as the plague jumped from wounded to those who had sustained none.
(Marching Day 3 47/100)
On the third day of your march, disaster struck as a single piece of rotten forest revealed itself to be far more than a bunch of diseased flora. As the armies under your command passed by, it did nothing until the very center of the train passed in front of it, specifically the portion of the army containing the halflings and
Kathleen, the incredibly odd former Steam Tank. In hindsight, you should have expected something like this. This realm has been under the sway of Nurgle for years now, and technically a little under two decades by Gruber's hands. Still, it is hard to figure out what to do when the damned
trees can be possessed by daemons.
Whipping branches and with ghastly faces and limbs, they rose from the ground. You had thought them to be like the treemen spoken of that sometimes frequent the lands of the Wood Elves, but this was something different. The pus ran down their bark as if from a dozen open wounds. Each of them spoke in a language that one couldn't precisely understand but set the blood bursting from the ears of those who were first assaulted.
Managing to split them open only released great rivers of disgusting sludge and gas which slew more men than the creatures could have possessed on their own, as well as the creatures which were held within them. Like maggots and termites they were, bulbous giggling masses of flesh and teeth. You have heard of the orcish squig, though you've never seen one in person.
These were not squigs.
They burned in the light of the priests and moved unnaturally in unison. After consultation with the Witch Hunters, you learned that these were the horrific
spawn of a Greater Daemon of Nurgle. Something called a Great Unclean One. There was no sign of said creature, which is good as it seems the sort of thing that could utterly ruin an army entirely regardless of magic or runefangs. Instead, it was just them, known as they are as Nurglings. Thankfully the physical incarnations of disease itself were just as susceptible to fire and the prayers of the priests as actual disease is. Perhaps more so in the latter's case.
Nevertheless, the halflings were terrified, some of their number killed, as well as twenty of the Knights of the White Wolf who had at the time been eating. Though you pushed on, the morale of your army was in fact shaken somewhat. It is only at the stern glares of the Witch Hunters stalking back and forth, the rations provided by the Moot, and the assistance of the
Foot that your forces didn't begin to collapse. As it is, discipline was somewhat shaken but has maintained itself for now.
There was a bright side, even considering what occurred. After slaying those creatures, horrid little things they were, the land around you seemed just that slightly bit healthier. Killing the disease was a most useful thing to do indeed.
(Marching Day 4 98/100)
After being attacked every single day up until this point, even the most recalcitrant and lazy soldier was pushing to move ahead as quickly as possible. Anyone who wanted to complain about marching through what was effectively enemy territory either didn't speak up or was cuffed into silence by their fellows whenever they opened their mouths. What you had initially assumed was going to be a five day journey was swallowed into four as your army churned the earth beneath you. Fear of being assaulted once more, desire to get into a full on fight instead of just being bled off from part and parcel attacks, and for some the genuine desire to rescue the elves, all these reasons and more fueled the march's heart and mind while the halflings filled the stomach.
The Cookery Regiment grew more respectful on this fact, stating that the fact that they had been
pushed to cook enough to feed everyone so that the march did not fall behind its new galvanized schedule was an incredible feat to manage. A good thing to, as the farther you got to the coast, the better and better the air smelled. The land was cleaner, the air was fresher, and for a time you could barely taste the disgusting undercurrent of mold and rot which filled the rest of Nordland.
Of course it wouldn't last forever. As you approached Heilidorf the earth grew sickly once more while the air turned sticky and filled with the scent of spoiled milk. The Nurgle Army besieging it brought the general aura of sickness with them, despite the fact that they were relatively far from Gruber. Eventually however, you rounded the road, and beheld the ongoing battle.
The sea lapped at the broken docks of Heilidorf, and with it rode Norscans in their longboats. Johanna provided you with an eyeglass to look through so that you could spy them attempting again and again to make it into the city itself by way of the ruined docks only for an absolute
storm of silver colored arrows to fly into their bodies. Hardy though the marauders of the north may be, even more so with Nurgle behind them, but the High Elves are nothing if not skilled.
A swirling mass of plague zombies has fully surrounded Heilidorf, and with the Norscans making intermittent attacks by arrow or even thrown axe the elves cannot maneuver out of it. Suddenly however, pushing their way to the fore, come a large group of Chaos Warriors. As they run full speed at the gates of the city, arrows find their way into eye slits and throats with inhuman precision, whereas even while you are watching a slim woman with an impressive headdress rises up atop the wall and imperiously points her staff.
From its tip comes a multicolored whip of sheer force which lashes forward. Upon contact it leaves actual explosions behind, sending the armored bulk of the warriors flying, many of them missing most of their parts. Yet more arrived from the back, and when you refocused the eyeglass you had to pull it way just as quickly. Everyone around you was most concerned when your eye began bleeding from the socket lightly. You had turned the eyeglass onto a portal, similar to the one opened at Ockholm. It was not good to look at long, or even for a short time.
Every time the elf woman atop the gates attempted to lance out with any
truly great display of power the portal flared and her magic began to flutter slightly. The numbers of the plague zombies, the constant assaults from the sea, and even their magic being suppressed through some arcane manner that you did not pretend to even slightly understand, it is no wonder that the Elves were having difficulty. Apparently they had risked much to have even the small handful of their number exit once they sighted your scouts observing the battle.
Well, now that you are here, you can only go forward.
You Have Arrived At Heilidorf, What Shall You Do?
[] Look Over Here! You have cannons, handguns, and a little bit of magic of your own, though the Ice Mages are still quite tired. If you were to set up a bombardment of the enemy with said cannons and set your knights, swordsmen, and ogres correctly, you could bleed off the forces of the enemy and potentially allow the Elves to do something. Besides, the more time you can just attack them without them managing to shamble over to you, the less casualties you'll have. Once the enemy has taken enough damage, you can move forward. Maybe the Elves will just finish off whatever doesn't attack you, maybe they won't. How many cannon balls does it take to blow up a daemonic portal?
[] Gore From Behind – Okay. That portal is spewing daemons and Warriors of Chaos, specifically aligned to Nurgle. You hate Nurglings, you despite Plaguebearers, and you hate Chaos in general. You need to get over there, while they are distracted and have the majority of their forces attacking Heilidorf and hit the portal from behind. By assaulting the rear of their formation, and
succeeding, you will have knocked out their main source of reinforcements besides the apparently periodical trains of plague zombies and creatures up towards thecoast. Sure, more dangerous to your people as you throw them into bodily combat with Gruber's forces directly for the first time, but you can't just avoid them all at range forever.
[] Something Else?
Army Of Ostland:
7005 Swordsmen
3,850 Archers
300 Light Cavalry
4,000 Pikes
1,490 Ogres
500 Greatswords
2200 Bull Warriors
1500 Kreml Guard
5000 Kossars
14 Knights Griffon
2000 Imperial Foot
1000 Imperial Foot Handgunners
5 Veteran Warrior Priests of Sigmar
Four Cannons
Allied Forces:
Kislev
2 Master Ice Mages [Veronika/Valentina]
1500 Kreml Guard
11,000 Kossars
2,000 Winged Lancers,
1,000 Ungol Horse Archers.
Middenland
5,000 Halberdiers
5,000 Pikes
4,500 Swordsmen
580 Knights of the White Wolf
1 Priest of Ulric.
Talabecland
20,000 Flagellants
5,000 Swordsmen
3000 Archers
1000 Handgunners
500 Knights of the Broken Sword
Johanna Fuerbach – Hero Unit.
The Moot
1 Cookery Regiment
Soup Tank Kathleen.
