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Vorgeheim-3,2489 IC
Hieronymus was incredibly drunk when I found him. It seemed that after being locked up in the lab for so long with nothing to do, he managed to get along with the dawi, helping them with some alchemical processes that he handled better than many of them. Clearly, the person who had control of one of my notebooks on alchemical formulas mastered certain things much better than the dwarves, who had learned them through experience and practice, but without any knowledge of the theoretical background behind the new technologies.
Well, they invited him to drink regularly. And every time they did, Hieronymus ended up drunk. Terribly drunk.
He then explained to me what had happened. Why demons appeared in Reinsfeld. And it was simple: he didn't want to use magic in the city, not even secretly. With the presence of the witch hunters, the risk of being discovered was enormous. And although very few knew he was tied to me as my financial advisor, it would still have caused problems. So, he made the most direct decision. With almost two hundred and fifty kilograms of blue pigment loaded in a transport cart, he went to look for the von Kesselheim troops.
He literally provoked a Chamon storm around him. The power he felt was so immense that he massacred without difficulty three thousand trained soldiers, who could do nothing but die mercilessly. And by leaving such a saturated area of metal magic, it wasn't hard to attract demons, drawn to the massacre or the energy released.
We both agreed that, if anyone asked me, I'd simply say that he was now guarding the village and was my representative in dawi matters. Meanwhile, he hides in the laboratory, the safest place in the region to stay out of the witch hunters' or Watchmasters' sight, who must undoubtedly be on alert by now.
So, I just made sure the dawi had everything they needed, except cotton, to keep producing more gunpowder.
What I did take from there were several sealed barrels of smokeless gunpowder. I'd need them for my next campaign: to gain the favor of the Cult of Sigmar and a bit of the Ulricans by helping to clean the Drakwald forest.
The Merxheim forests, although still filled with beastmen, were slowly being cleaned by the militias. They launched frequent expeditions, not too far, to establish small camps and protect the Bretonnian peasants who continued to work as if possessed by duty. With three meals a day and the promise of a house, they worked happily, with big smiles, until the end of the day.
I let the militias, which now numbered almost eight thousand men, protect all my settlements. Four thousand stayed in Reinsfeld, while the other four thousand were distributed along the road to Merxheim, with a small fixed garrison in the mining village, preventing the beastmen from causing trouble while we slowly destroyed their habitat.
I quickly recruited two thousand two hundred men to close the numbers and have five thousand soldiers at my personal service. For a week, I organized their teams, gave them armor, uniforms, and distributed a large number of muskets. Recently, I had ordered a small modification: an improvement in the barrel to allow them to attach a bayonet or, at least, a sharp piece of steel. That way, if they found themselves in the terrible situation of close combat, they'd have a minimal chance of defense.
However, due to the speed of my request, only a hundred muskets with that modification could be made. Meanwhile, the blacksmiths were mass-producing a long piece of very sharp steel.
So, with the army ready to mobilize, we began our march toward Schilderheim, where we rented the boats of a local merchant. It was much cheaper to rent a boat than to buy individual tickets for all my men. Quickly and orderly, we crossed the river to Barenfahre, and when the entire army was on the other side, I sent a messenger to the Duke of Carroburg, informing him that my forces were approaching and that they should let us pass without issues.
They did so. We were allowed to cross the city, as they were informed that our mission was to clean the nearest forests by direct orders of the Grand Theogonist. We were well received, and some supplies were given to us before we continued.
We kept advancing north, and I was surprised by the immense forests of Middenland. Everywhere I looked, there were enormous trees, easily decades, if not centuries, old. But what worried me the most was how close those forests were to the road. There were only a few partially cleared sectors, but not much more than that. Anyone passing by here would realize too late what could be hidden among the trees… when it was already too late to react.
Going up to Middenheim would be ideal if I wanted our presence to have the maximum political recognition in cleaning the forests. But being so far, it would delay the arrival of resources, reinforcements, and, above all, the gunpowder I had ordered to be sent to me every week to use the muskets indiscriminately.
So, we simply camped near Carroburg.
In the village of Grossfurre, we set up our beastmen hunting camp. Heading into the forests, we began unloading all the supplies we had brought: shovels, hammers, nails, axes… and we began cutting trees and pulling trunks around us. We started cleaning the land and setting up a palisade, establishing a military camp with latrines and ditches, as our stay would be prolonged.
For several hours, we focused exclusively on getting the camp in good condition, with the tree line pushed back and extensive fortifications to offer provisional defense against the beastmen that inhabited those woods.
When nightfall came, most of the camp was already set up. The guards began organizing the watch shifts, ensuring everything around us remained quiet and that we had enough response time in case of a Chaos attack.
The next day, after sleeping and preparing the meals, we finished setting up the camp as it should be. We raised a second wooden palisade, erected watchtowers, and built parapets.
With everything ready, we began preparing the traps that were so effective against the beastmen. We sacrificed several pigs brutally, spreading their blood all over the area.
And it didn't take long for me to feel large amounts of metal beginning to move through the thick forest, heading directly toward us.
It wasn't long before dozens of musket shots rang out. The beastmen emerged from the forest, only to be gunned down by multiple volleys from our musketeers, who fired mercilessly from atop the walls, covered by the parapets. It was like shooting ducks in the Imperial pond. They charged toward us by the dozens, driven by the blood of their kin, but they found only death.
The beastmen massacre lasted nearly two hours. Thousands of their bodies piled up in front of our camp. The scandal was such that the local lord's forces approached, asking if we needed help, until they saw what lay on the other side: literally piles of beastmen corpses who had died trying to reach us.
Not feeling their presence anymore, we immediately began gathering the bodies and lit a large bonfire. We used their bodies as fuel, taking advantage of the abundant wood from the trees we had cut.
For a week, we worked tirelessly, luring beastmen with every trick I had in my arsenal. And it was working. It didn't take long before some minotaurs emerged, crossing the tree line like uncontrolled beasts... only to become huge practice targets for the thousands of musketeers posted on the wooden walls, who fired non-stop at anyone who poked their head out from the forest.
Everything seemed under control. We continued to eliminate beastmen consistently, while the blood of their fallen comrades acted as bait for more of them.
In one of those rare moments of peace, when the men took the opportunity to clean their weapons, refill their powder pouches, a sizable cavalry contingent arrived, carrying the insignia of Ulric.
I went to meet them. Each of them wore plate armor and a thick wolfskin piece over their shoulders.
"For Ulric!" said one of them, pounding his chest forcefully as he dismounted.
"Blessings of Sigmar," I replied without making the hand gesture.
The Ulrican snorted loudly before speaking.
"So, you are the Sigmarites who came to help us clean the Drakwald? Building a small fortification doesn't do much if you don't clean the woods…" said the Ulrican.
"Graf Albrecht von Reinsfeld, at the service of the Grand Theogonist and the Cult of Sigmar. Though you follow Ulric, I don't care what you think. In the last week, we've killed more beastmen than you and your men could dream of taking down."
"We received reports from the local priest. He says that the presence of beastmen in this area has increased since you arrived. So I suppose you're doing quite poorly," replied the Ulrican.
"Come with me and shut your mouth. Then tell me why you're here." I turned my back on him with disinterest, guiding him to the front of the camp.
And that's when the hundreds of beastmen corpses piled up at the gates were first seen.
"I suppose you know what this is… right, Ulrican? A minotaur," I said as I grabbed one of the dead beasts by the horn. Its body had been pierced by dozens of bullets, its eyes still wide open, its tongue hanging out, and its enormous head tilted as if it were still trying to breathe. I exerted enough force to lift its head for a few seconds, showing it to him.
"An abomination..." murmured the Ulrican as his eyes scanned the entire field full of beastmen corpses.
"That's right, Ulrican. The Cult of Sigmar sent its best beastmen hunter in Reikland, and I won't rest until these woods are free of the corrupt presence of mutants... or until the time the cult deems necessary for this campaign comes to an end. And what are you going to do?"
The musket shots began to resonate again. Another group of beastmen had emerged from the forest, charging en masse toward our positions. The musketeers tore them apart before they could even get close.
"Are you going to waste my time, or are you going to tell me why you're here?" I asked, not taking my eyes off the front while my men cut down everything emerging from the trees.
"We received orders from the Ar-Ulric to help the Sigmarites in their mission in the Drakwald… So I assume you're that Sigmarite. More of my brothers will be arriving soon. Our mission is to destroy some of the war herds inhabiting the nearby woods, to relieve the pressure on the local populations," said the Ulrican leader in a less confrontational tone.
"How many of you are there?" I asked, turning my head slightly without taking my eyes off the continuous musket fire.
"Three hundred. And more should arrive soon, Sigmarite. It was an order for most of the White Wolf knights. We all came to help," said the Ulrican.
"Great. You could be useful to me… as long as it doesn't bother you to wait. I'm waiting for this to stop happening. Because if I had gone into the forest with my men directly, I'd probably be sending hundreds to Morr's gardens." I turned around and began walking toward the rear of the camp.
"Enter. This is going to take a while," I said to the knights.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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