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Kaldezeit-8-19-2492
"With all due respect… Prince Albrecht… why do I have such a large army outside my city? And without any notice of its arrival." The chancellor of the Ostermark League, Wolfram Hertwig, glared at me, brow furrowed, his arms rigid against the table.
"You requested aid from the Emperor. Here is that aid," I replied firmly, meeting his stare. "The Empire has gathered what it could, as quickly as possible, to defend your eastern border from the Kislevite raiders who have been ravaging your lands."
"Yes… I understand that." Hertwig drew a long breath. "What I cannot understand is why I was not informed. I could have prepared supplies, housing, some way to coordinate…"
"This was already discussed with the Elector Count of Talabecland, who holds rights over this region."
"Only in name, nothing more," the chancellor shot back bitterly. "That count hasn't come to levy taxes or raise men here in decades. You know very well he has no power here, and neither does he attempt to exercise it."
I nodded slightly. "Yes, I am aware. But the truth is, I am here because the Kislevites broke a treaty with me and with the Emperor. They need punishment. Perhaps if they taste some of their own medicine, they will stop plundering us every year under the excuse of poor harvests."
The chancellor's face hardened. "I would ask that you refrain from doing anything… rash. You may win a battle, prince, but it will be Ostermark that pays the reprisals. I would prefer you not to attempt it, and instead withdraw your army from my domains."
I leaned forward, letting a cold smile escape. "The army is here to stay, chancellor. This force will raise fortresses, protect the border with Kislev, and in the coming years, even Ostland if necessary. But since Kislev prefers to plunder Ostermark before Ostland… we shall start here. And remember—it was you who requested aid from the Emperor."
"I do not have the gold to finance an Imperial army." He shook his head, incredulous.
"Then it must be found. Because of the constant raids and your petitions for relief, the Elector Count ceded to the Emperor temporary control of Ostermark for its defense. And as the general sent by His Imperial Majesty, Sigmar's chosen, I tell you now: from this moment on you will pay taxes to the Emperor, provide grain and men for the army—until further notice."
"What?! This is unacceptable. I asked for aid, not to be subjugated in this way." The chancellor's voice thundered across the hall, his guards shifting tensely at his sides.
"Ah…" I nodded, rising slowly from my chair. "Then summon the members of the League. All of them must contribute a special levy, hand over part of this year's harvest, and provide recruits for the army. Furthermore, I demand that every man who by law owes service to the Imperial army be mobilized at once. This is not a suggestion, it is an order." I walked toward one of the narrow windows, from where the city lay beneath the grey winter sky.
"No!" Hertwig roared, slamming the table. "I demand you leave my domains at once. I will take this matter to the Emperor. Until then—"
"This will happen, chancellor," I cut him off, turning slowly back toward him. My hand rested on the haft of my runic mace. "If I leave this city without control of Ostermark, I will march with my eighty cannons and twenty-eight thousand men. I will tear your walls to rubble, massacre every last inhabitant, and send a clear message to the rest of the League: this is what becomes of traitors to the Empire. Because that is exactly what you are committing right now, chancellor: high treason, by disobeying a direct order of the Emperor."
Hertwig's guards had their hands on their swords.Mine were quicker. They drew their runeblades, making them sing through the air with a metallic hiss. That sound alone froze the chancellor's men where they stood.
"So then, chancellor… what will it be?" I asked with a crooked smile, lifting my other hand to my helmet. "Do you wish to keep your head on your shoulders, or shall I help you with the problem of it being too hard to understand that this is not the time for resistance?"
"You… you…" the chancellor muttered, cursing under his breath.
"Yes, yes, curse me all you like," I interrupted calmly. "But I want all members of the League here, in Bechafen, by next month. And this is not a request."
The League's leader covered his face with a hand, shaking his head, defeated.
"Good. Now that we know who commands here, let us speak of what matters. I need to know where the Kislevites crossed the river, and where they struck hardest."
The chancellor sighed, resigned. "Through The Veldt. It is the most fertile part of Ostermark. Endless plains, without hills, renowned for their abundant harvests. Whenever they overpower the river garrisons—funded by some of the League's nobles—the Kislevites always strike there."
"I see… then they crossed from the east." I frowned and extended my hand. "I assume you have maps. It would be strange if you did not."
The chancellor snapped his fingers and his men moved quickly. They soon returned with scrolls of parchment bearing the League's maps, showing castles, villages, and towns. Ostermark, seen thus, looked like a broken mosaic: thick forests, endless hills, tiny hamlets. The Veldt, however, was a sea of plains, where small villages of less than two thousand souls produced most of the grain that fed the cities. Protected only by two riverside fortresses that barely covered the expanse. That was my point of operations.
"Perfect. I already know where to move the army. I will leave a garrison of one thousand men in the city. The rest will march with me to defend the farmlands of The Veldt. And in addition…" I smiled as I studied the maps. "I will take with me every man who, by law, owes service to the state army. We will conduct a short levy. The Emperor expects this year's taxes to be paid directly to me. I will await payment—from you and from the rest of the League. Any delay will be considered treason. Remind your peers not to make me bring my army to collect in person."
I left the chamber slowly, the smile still on my face as I glanced at the chancellor's twisted expression. His rage was palpable, but useless.
Bechafen called itself a city, though it barely held ten thousand souls. The term was generous. It was easy to threaten a place like that when your army outnumbered its entire population three to one. The true strength of Ostermark lay in its smaller towns—villages of up to two thousand inhabitants, ringing the city like concentric circles.
That very day I conscripted another thousand men, pulling them directly from the state army's ranks to weaken them so they would not dare consider resistance. I had to subdue Ostermark, break the League, and place them firmly under Imperial authority.
Keeping an army that size was no cheap endeavor. Food, wages, winter gear, weapons, horses, fortifications—it all cost a fortune. I knew the nobles would resist, would hate every coin they were forced to surrender. But that was my task: to break them. To force them to understand they could no longer rely on their local alliances, that only the Emperor and his general could provide security.
So, as we marched south along the river's course, passing through two smaller towns, the progress was swifter than expected. I needed little debate: showing the chancellor of Bechafen's seal was enough to redirect all the nobles' fury onto him. I demanded men, food, and payment of taxes to the Emperor without leaving space for argument.
We recruited another thousand men along the way. I had to leave behind a stable force of thirty thousand soldiers, preferably drawn from Ostermark itself, so they would defend their own land when I departed for Averland. I had much work ahead.
I divided part of my troops, sending my captains with smaller detachments to continue conscription and collect taxes directly from the nobles, always under Bechafen's authority. That way, when the time came for the League's assembly, all their resentment would fall on the chancellor, not me.
As for myself, I would maintain the pay of the twenty-five thousand men already enlisted. They would be the ones to accompany me into Averland. The other twenty-eight thousand, if possible, would be raised exclusively in Ostermark, bound to its defense.
When we finally found a point to cross, we reached The Veldt. As expected for the season, the villages were deep in their winter routine: little activity in the streets, families enclosed in their homes, working on crafts to keep occupied and warm. The lack of garrisons was obvious. That was why Ostermark was plundered again and again: full granaries and defenseless peasants.
The closer we drew to the river marking the border with Kislev, the more refugees we encountered. Whole families fleeing burned-out villages, taken in by neighboring communities that shared what little they had. If anything could be said of Ostermarkers, it was that they knew how to cooperate with each other; there was none of the selfishness common in other provinces, where every family thought only of its own bread.
It was in these hundreds of villages that we recruited thousands. Some enlisted simply for work during the winter; others for vengeance, eager to strike back at the raiders. Unlike my regular troops, these men were paid less, for they technically became part of the Imperial army rather than my personal forces. Yet all received weapons and proper equipment from the supplies I had brought for the campaign.
In total, we added some five thousand more men during the march through the countryside. But the grim reality of the conflict soon revealed itself: we left behind untouched villages and entered a zone of pure devastation. Houses reduced to ashes, fields burned, granaries empty. The trail left by the Kislevites in their raid.
It did not take long to reach our destination. In one of the easternmost stretches of Ostermark lay a place where two rivers descended from the mountains, forming naturally defensible ground, a gift of geography. There I decided to establish our base.
I immediately set the whole army to work, though it was the dawi who made the true difference. I had brought with me a mix of Duran's workers and warriors who had promised their aid in settling my grievance with Kislev. As soon as they received the order, their picks and shovels bit into the earth frozen hard by winter. The soil was like stone, yet their runic tools carved through it with ease. Within hours they had reached the bedrock and prepared the ground to raise a permanent fortress, while my men set up a palisade and the temporary camp.
I spread my veterans along the river in watch posts. I knew the deeper the winter grew, the more likely it was the Kislevites would attempt to raid The Veldt's fertile lands. Three hundred League men were never enough to withstand northern cavalry; my troops were.
In the days that followed, reinforcements arrived: entire companies of recruits and convoys laden with supplies. My men returned from their tax-gathering expeditions with sacks heavy with gold and with thousands of peasants conscripted. The threat that disobedience would be treated as treason had worked: all paid. None of the League's nobles wished to risk a personal visit from my army.
The force assembled now stood at forty-two thousand men. Of course, most were green soldiers, hastily conscripted and without experience. I had no intention of using them in my offensive campaigns, save for minor duties or garrison work. For what I planned—burning a Kislevite castle here and there, leaving scars to remind the Tzar what happens when he toys with the Empire—I would rely only on my personal forces.
Meanwhile, the supply lines held strong. With the current recruitment, I knew we would reach the goal of thirty thousand men settled in Ostermark before year's end. That would be my legacy there: a local army, maintained with their own gold, forced to recognize the Emperor's authority and dependent on our weapons to survive the next winter.
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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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