Warhammer: Shadows of Empire - Fire, Smoke, Bow, & Axe

[Talos]

Mikhail merely grunted and took a swig of beer. Once again the taste made him wince. "Wretched stuff this. I suppose I should do something about it." Still munching on some bread he walked over to the keg and concentrated over it saying mystic words of enchantment. Nodding in satisfaction he proceeded to decant five mugs of golden mead, the sweet honey smell rising from the simple clay mugs like a heady breath of fresh air compared to the stale ale. Mikhail returns to the table and sets the mugs down in the middle. "Mead." He says simply and returns to his breakfast.

Click to reveal..

(07:28:57) (Mikhail): Channeling Check (79)

(07:29:01) ChatBot: (Mikhail) rolls 1d100 and gets 94.

(07:29:17) (Mikhail): Ferment (TN 4) rolling 2 magic dice

(07:29:22) ChatBot: (Mikhail) rolls 2d10 and gets 6,3.

(07:29:28) (Mikhail): mmmm mead

[Rorx]

Wolf smiles at Mikhail's familiar dumb barbarian routine, then turns back to the bounty hunter. "You came through the night in the storm? You may have been lucky to have the storm last night as we found a small group of mutants on the outskirts of the town. They would happily have attacked you had they seen you."

Having finished his food Wolfgang pushes away from the table and drains his drink, "Right, I'm for finding the Captain, anyone with me?"

[Adrian Moss]

A grubby looking Peasent-type person sticks his head in the door. Through rotten teeth (he's grinning) he interrupts the conversation.

"Capt'ns call'en a meet'n in der Acherplatz. Right now!"

The man is gone before he can be questioned, but he can be heard yelling his invitation to the stable boy next door before running on.

Outside the door, the characters can see a crowd beginning to gather around a large box in the platz. The innkeeper looks like she is going to drag herself out to see what's going on as well.

[Rorx]

Wolfgang looks around at the others, shrugs then heads out to see what the Captain had to say.

[V'Neef Meles]

"Bored to death is a way of life in these pissant villages, lady." He replied to Nayobee. "I'm not planning to stay long - a warm bed without too many lice and I'll be on the road again."

"But it's a good thing it is that you found those mutants, Brother Wolfgang." Diarmuir mopped up some gruel with his bread. "I was tired, and might have lost my temper with them." He delivered this last deadpan, his mismatched gaze flicking to Wolfgang as he smiled wryly. Noting the mead that the Wizard placed down, he cautiously picked up the mug and sniffed at it before shrugging and taking a large sip. He actually smiled then, nodding to Mikhail in silent thanks before taking another drink.

Then the breakfast was interrupted by the rot-toothed mud-grubber. Diarmuir repressed a sigh of irritation: hadn't he done enough for this shithole? Too much he thought sourly But I might as well go and see what they want. Taking his mug in one hand and hooking his crossbow into it's sheath on his baldric as he stood, the bounty hunter ambled over to the door and stepped out into the morning sunlight.

[Adrian Moss]

They joined the gathering throng outside. The press of humanity was ... pungent. In the center, the Captain stood next to the box, several bags and a crate at his feet. The crate had been opened exposing several bottles of wine. Father Deitrich stood next to him, still in his armor.

Wolfgang made his way to the heart of the crowd to talk to the Captain. After a brief talk, he made his way back to the party, somewhat pensive.

Click to reveal..

"Did the Mutant give you anything?" Wolfgang asks. "Why were they here?"

The Captian looks grim.

"The Crow-headed one was sent here to kill me, this morning, while his fellow mutants attacked from across the bridge. He wouldn't say who sent him before he died."

At the back of the crowd (there seems to be between fifty and a hundred souls in Untergard) the characters see the Captain step up on the large box. He holds up his hands and asks for quiet. People quickly obey.

"We have recieved word from the Graf!"

The murmurs cease.

"People of Untergard, this is a glorious day. I have recieved a letter from Count Todbringer of Middenheim. The Old Wolf still lives and the city of Middenheim also stands strong."

A cheer goes up amongst the people. Again, Schiller motions for silence.

"Count Todbringer sends his thanks to all of Untergard for the party we played in hampering the invaders."

The Captain holds up the letter that Diarmuir delivered.

"And, I quote: the battle for Untergard Bridge will go downas one of the most glorious battles of the of Middenland's history.. Be proud, People of Untergard, for our sacrifices have not been in vain."

More cheering rises up. Once it dies down, the Old Man continues. To their side, the Innkeeper starts sobbing as tears streak down her face. Beside her the stable boy looks up confused.

"To show his gratitude for our valour, the Count sends these tokens of his appreciation."

Schiller reaches down to the Priest who hands him up a bottle of wine and a loaf of bread.

"We are honored to to recieve thirty loaves of bread and a dozen bottles of wine, straight from Middenheim."

The chant of "Long live the Count" starts up and carries throughout the crowd. Still, in the back, a few voices whisper,

"Were are the troops?"

From the bridge, a call suddenly goes up. Several figures can be seen moving through the ruins toward the bridge. The militia man there shouts out,

"It's Hans! Hans has returned.

The crowd quiets and the Captain gets down from his box and starts making his way through the crowd. Father Dietrich is in his wake.

It seems Hans is leading a band of a dozen refugees, mostly wood folks like charcoal burners, woodsmen, and hunter, both men and women. They all look damp, dead on their feet, with what few posessions they have on their backs. Those of a keen eye note that Hans has no bow, or crossbow. He must be a simple woodsman then.

"Captain," he gasps. "I've been scouting the countryside and gathering up stragglers as we discussed. Thess people with me are survivors of villages all over Middenland."

"I was bringing them back with me when I came across the tracks of a Beastmen Warband at least 200 strong headed this way. I had to sneak around them to get here to warn you."

Captain Schiller looks even more pale and care-worn as he ponders the news.

"We must stand and fight them," Father Deitrich councils fervently.

"We must flee," counters Hans. "Unless troops are quickly on the way, it will be just us. That will be no fight."

"Captain, no one can come. I was in Grimmhagen six days ago. It's been sacked and the bridge destroyed. While the town may have been sacked, the Graf Sternhauer was safe in his keep. He won't help anyone."

At the Graf's name, several people around hiss. Apparently he's not a popular man in these parts.

The crowd starts arguing. Some want to flee while others don't want to lose everything they own. The Captain calls for quiet then heads for the inn. Dietrich and Hans follow him. What do the players do?

[V'Neef Meles]

Diarmuir leaned against the outer wall of the tavern, finishing the last of the mead in his mug as, eyes narrowed, he considered the situation. A warband of 200 beastmen was no joke, and they were in his path.

He pondered saddling up and riding back the way he had come for a short while, then circling wide around before heading to Talabheim. A single schilling per head was not really worth his time, and that was the standing bounty on the Chaos spawn. And yet... A herd that large might have a suitably valuable head leading it. A glint came into his pale grey eye, whereas the copper one seemed to catch flame from within as he mulled over the plan that was occuring to him.

Without a word he slipped into the inn ahead of the Captain and company, gathering up his hat and cloak from where they were spread out to dry. Satisfied that they were comfortably dry enough, he swung the oilskin cloak around his shoulders and donned his shapeless hat as the others came into the taproom. He approached the Captain, looking the man in the eye.

"You need time to prepare your defenses... or to flee. Either way I can buy it for you." His low voice was calm and coldly professional as he spoke. "Leave a smudge fire burning if you're staying in the town, otherwise make sure all fires are out so I won't come back here. And if you are here, be ready to throw a rope for me to get back in. If I'm in a hurry, you'll hear the Beastmen behind me." He touched two fingers to his hat and headed for the door.

[Talos]

"Allowing the beastmen to take the bridge would be folly." Mikhail spoke plainly, his heavily accented voice sounding out above the din. "We could fight, and lose, given the forces arrayed against us. We could flee and lose the town and bridge both. OR! Or, we could destroy the bridge and save the town. Bridges can be rebuilt in time."

[Rorx]

Wolfgang considered the news carefully as he made his way back into the Inn. Seeing that Duirmuir had his cloak and hat meant only one of two things and as he spoke his plan was obvious to Wolf.

As the bounty hunter made his way to the door Wolfgang held his had out to him, "Would you be willing for me to tag along with you? In my youth I had some experience travelling in the woods of Middenland. Or if you think I'd be too much of a liability to you then perhaps Nayobee would be interested in the trip?"

[Nayobee]

Nayobee nodded at Wolfgang and caught up with the Bounty Hunter. "Aside from that, I don't trust him to do this all on his own. Whatever is on your mind Diarmuir I'll be watching your back.", it sounded as if she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

The Elven Ghost Strider looked back at her friends before she left with the Bounty Hunter, "We'll be back, be prepared."

[Adrian Moss]

"If the lad goes, I go," trumpets the dwarf. "Besides there is not staying behind if the Pointy-Ear goes."

Grombar looks toward the bridge.

"Now that I think about it, 200 doesn't seem like a fair fight."

Grombar then waddles off to the stables, were some of his gear is stored.

[V'Neef Meles]

Diarmuir regarded the priest, the Dwarf and the Elf, then sighed barely perceptibly. "As you want, then." He started to walk away from the inn at a steady gait, speaking as he moved. "My plan is to ambush the warband, kill the leader, and then slip away, circle, and come at them from another angle while they're still mazed." His odd eyes looked over his shoulder at the others. "Many hands make light work, I suppose."

[Nayobee]

"The plan is good Diarmuir. I just think the Dwarf and Wolfgang should stay here and prepare the defenses. These people need you here more than you can effectively help us accomplish this mission. Diarmuir and I will be twice as fast on our own than with you in tow.", her response came sharp and precise. There was no doubt in her words.

Looking at Diarmuir she briefly smiled at him and then started to move. "Lets go!"

[Rorx]

"Grombar! Get back over here, these two will do better on foot in the woods without us blundering along with them, especially if you're thinking of taking the horses. We would be better used in preparing the defences and defenders."

Stepping back outside Wolfgang hears Mikhail's comment and raises his voice to its Oration pitch.

"Brothers and Sisters. The town must not be abandoned to the scum of Chaos, and the bridge is the heart of the town. If the bridge is destoryed then Chaos will have gained a victory here for the Army will have a harder time with resupply of both men and equipment. We owe it to those who have already lost there lives defending this place to make the Chaos scum pay for the temerity in attacking again so that their sacrifice will not have been in vain. As I speak we have warriors going out to delay and disrupt the Beastman force. To aid the defence we have representatives of both Sigmar and Ulric [indicates Father Dietrich and himself, before point at Mikhail], and my vocal friend is a Master Wizard! So do not count the town lost before the battle is even joined. Come then Brothers and Sisters who will join me in defending this town and showing Chaos that it will always be opposed!"

Click to reveal..

Charm +10, Public speaking and master Orator gives ability to influence 500+ people.

(19:36:54) ChatBot: (Wolfgang) rolls 1d100 and gets 69.

(19:38:00) (Wolfgang): use a pt to get a reroll

(19:38:08) ChatBot: (Wolfgang) rolls 1d100 and gets 4.

(19:38:17) (Wolfgang)

[Adrian Moss]

With thunder like that, these peasents and burghers would storm Brass Keep itself to free it from Aerchon's hordes. Thankfully, that is not their task. No, all these untrained people have to do is defend their homes from 200 beastmen.

They cheer,

"Ulric! Ulric! Hail the White Wolf!"

Even Father Dietrich doesn't look put out. The Captain comes out, folds his arms and says,

"Looks like my mind has been made up for me."

He isn't happy.

Father Dietrich comes up to the the (Wolfgang, Mikhail, and Schiller).

"We need to get people organized. We have but one day and we need some wall at the bridge. Torches need to be made and handed out. Every able body man needs a weapon and a shield. Darkness comes, but so will the dawn."

Schiller turns to Mikhail,

"What can we do to put you in the best position to help. Seeing you work your magic will put heart in our forces and weaken the resolve of our enemy. If we can't break their morale, they will wear us down."

About this time the Dwarf comes up, having missed the speech, but with his precious repeating crossbow.

"What?"

He looks around for the Elf and Bounty Hunter.

"They're gone? Wolf, do you seriously plan to defend this pile of rocks," he asks indignitly. "This town nearly killed us once and you want to give it a second chance. Bloody-minded Wolf-skins."

Grombar shakes his head.

Many people have gathered, ready to get to work. The looks on their faces are those of faith and trust in their leaders.

[V'Neef Meles]

Diarmuir and Nayobee jogged into the forest, heading towards the direction indicated by Hans that would bring them across the Beastman way party. They slowed a little as they entered the deeper woods, eyes and ears alert for sounds of danger. Both seemed well suited to this work, neither of them wasting words, but focused on the goals ahead. After some time, Diarmuir slowed his gait: he had heard something. Dimly through the trees he saw roughly two dozen beastmen moving in a loose line towards him and Nayobee. The scouts.

He slipped with barely a whisper into a hollow under a rotted tree stump, his shapeless cloak and hat making him practically invisible as he froze there. Out of the corner of one eye, he noticed the Elf-maid hadn't slowed, and in fact seemed not to notice the skirmish line ahead at all. For a long moment, the bounty hunter deliberated whether or not to warn her, then muttered a short curse before popping up from cover and hissing sharply, motioning towards the approaching Beastmen. Nayobee's eyes widened a little and she nodded, fading into the undergrowth as Diarmuir ducked down again, but not fast enough.

A snort of surprise alerted him to his discoverer, the bestial Chaos spawn glaring at him as it's slow wits caught up to the sight of a Man laying in ambush. It started to raise an axe, but Diarmuir was faster, lunging up out of the hollow and palming a blade from his baldric, slashing it upwards desperately. His dagger sliced the thing's stomach, and it's mouth opened to roar a pained warning to it's fellows...

Only to emit a wheezing moan as an arrow struck through it's ribcage and out under the other arm, the beast slumping to the ground. Diarmuir ducked back down and listened as he heard another beastman somewhere over near where Nayobee had vanished. A faint gurgling scream (not from an Elvish throat) and some shouts went up from the other skirmishers as they apparently spotted their quarry. The thunder of their footfalls disappeared into the distance: obviously chasing the Elf. Diarmuir dragged the body next to him under cover, then stayed still and silent, loading two bolts into his black crossbow with slow, precise movements. His patience was rewarded as the loud sounds of many, many Beastmen came closer to his position. Peering out, he saw the leader clearly.

Baa-Raak Bloodhorn. Diarmuir's lips twitched in a smile. The leader was seven feet tall, wearing chainmail armor and with a huge black axe in one hand, his skin a distinctive metallic bronze colour. This beast was worth one hundred gold crowns. Slowly, very slowly, Diarmuir brought his weapon up, aiming at the large bronze-furred head. Still he waited patiently for the prime shot. The prize was passing not fifteen yards from him: it was time. With a whispered prayer to Khaine, the bounty hunter lovingly squeezed the trigger.

The bolt flew true, but there was a clashing noise of metal on metal as it ricocheted off the broad head and into the woods. Baa-Raak grunted in pain and stumbled from the impact, but the killing strike had been deflected by whatever weird mutation had given the damned beast metal skin. Diarmuir cursed and jumped to his feet, loosing the second bolt which went wide as he turned and ran, ignoring the roaring outrage of the beastmen behind him.

He covered a lot of ground in that first dash, hitting his stride and moving fast into the woods, heading west. Out of the corner of one eye, he noted more beastmen apparently paralleling his course, but intent on someone else. Nayobee he thought, angling towards the second party. As he came up on their rear, hearing the sounds of pursuit behind him, the rogue saw one Beastman stumble with an arrow through his leg. Grinning savagely as he dashed across their trail, he loosed a bolt into the back of another. The quarrel tore through flesh and shattered the bone, nearly severing the arm and spraying the forest floor with lifeblood from the ruined artery.

Plunging into the undergrowth on the other side of the trail, he ducked round a bush and practically ran up a tree, getting comfortable just as the ten beastmen who had been pursuing HIM ran underneath, bellowing to each other. He let them go, listening for any further pursuit, but hearing the warband in the distance as it started to move on, heading towards the village still.

Waiting a few more minutes to be sure his pursuers had been well and truly foxed, Diarmuir descended from the tree and headed back to his ambush site, picking up the Beastmen's trail easily. He noted that they had a female with them, his keen eyes noticing the smaller, fainter tracks. A female with a warband was a shaman, always. His mismatched eyes narrowed grimly as he considered that. A secondary target, he decided there and then.

He moved along at a run, pushing his tired body to it's limits, drawing upon the resolve that had seen him climb from the gutters of Altdorf. Soon he caught up with the column and paced them like a shadow, slipping behind cover whenever the rearguards turned to look around. He briefly considered setting another ambush but abandoned the idea: it would take too much of his energy to get ahead of them in time. The warband was going to attack the village, and he hoped that the leader and shaman would hold back to study the defences as the first wave went in.

Checking his own backtrail he noticed Nayobee shadowing the warband also, intent on the tracks in front of her. He waited patiently, watching the lovely Elf as she moved right past his hiding place without even glancing at him. A short, low bird-whistle stopped her in her tracks, and in a flash she hid, looking around. The bounty hunter moved to where she could see him and motioned for her to follow him. Much to his surprise, she did, falling in on his trail as they slipped after the Beastmen, the sun starting to set. Through the twilight the two deadly ghosts trotted, their prey oblivious to what was behind them.

[Adrian Moss]

Nayobee picked her way through the ruins and out into the forest’s edge with the human padding at her side. He was silent enough for a human, but he didn’t have that ground eating stride that was one of the hallmarks of the Ghost Striders. Constantly she had to full herself in while he loped along behind her. It ground on her nerves. If he failed her, she would leave him for Beastmen food.

The traveled until the noontide sun hung in the branches, not that they could tell really well, the forest canopy was so thick, oppressive, and heavy. Nayobee was stalking forward, moving quickly from sheltered spot to sheltered spot when she heard a quiet call from Diarmuir. He had already taken cover and was pointing up ahead. A Beastmen skirmish line was moving their way and they were about to be caught up in it.

First she sought shelter, but then decided to move around the skirmishers instead of risking herself against their sharp senses. She had just skirted their projected path when she heard a Beastmen’s started cry. The creature had stepped upon the huge log that Diarmuir had taken shelter on it. The stupid beast had fallen off the log and come face to face with the Bounty Hunter.

The Beast raised is head to give out an alarm even as it readied its axe for the blow. Diarmuir stuck first, driving a knife into its gut. Instinctively she loosed an arrow. It came under its left arm passed through its chest and probably came out the other side. It fell with barely a whimper. She also heard the grunt of a closer Beastmen. It had seen her. Another sped toward it, hitting its right arm. It dropped its axe. She got another shot off into its chest, dooming it to a chocking death.

Its alarm had been heard though and six other Beastmen came running her way. Diarmuir was nowhere to be seen. It was time to sneak and evade. With the hunters hot on her trail she was off. Faster than her pursuers Nayobee knew well what to do. Now was the time for run, run again then strike and that is what she did.

Soon she had looped around and was racing back toward the place of her first kill. Behind her she briefly spotted one the Human crossing behind her hunters. He shot one through the arm, shattering it and leaving it to die in agony. Now there were only three Beastmen pursuers. One more and she could turn and fight … then she saw the swarm of Beasts chasing after Diarmuir. Finishing off these three would have to wait. Nayobee kept running.

The third died from her arrows, but now she was down to only two. The second she took from surprise as it ran past her. The last roared out a challenge, got in a swing, but then collapsed under a series of surgical slashes from her long blade. All she had to do now was catch up.

Nayobee knew searching for the Human was a waste of time. It wasn’t that she couldn’t find him, but to do so would probably send her farther away from her quarry. It was a bit of a surprise to her to then find his trail in the trail of the greater Warherd. The human had spine (or was touched) after all. He was also pushing himself to keep up with the quicker Beasts. The Warherd must have been driven to put up such a pace. They were going to reach Untergard around nightfall. He was pressing himself hard. She moved to catch up and was almost upon them when she heard a misplaced bird whistle. Instantly she took cover then scanned around. There was the Bounty Hunter – he had gotten her once again, damn his eyes.

He motioned for her to follow and for once she did. He had more bolts to burn in hid quiver than she had arrows in hers. She couldn’t outshoot her way out of another blunder. Best to have the slower human go first.

Night was falling and they had returned to the eves of the forest outside of the ruins of the town. Beastmen had spread out and were gathering vines and branches for torches. They couldn’t see at night, but their archery was notoriously bad, and they liked the terror that night tended to bring in their prey. Maybe Nayobee could make them afraid of the things that owned the night.

[Rorx]

Wolfgang turns to Father Dietrich first, "Thank you for your support Father. I'd appreciate it if you could get things moving. We need to build a wall to defend, perhaps two if we have time. Given our numbers I think the best places for them would be at the narrowest point of the bridge, where the hole is, and at the far end. Then we can try to lessen there numbers by putting our greatest numbers against there's limited by a reduced frontage."

"Use the rubble and debris of the first battle to make two walls, one across the far end of the bridge and one in the middle of the bridge. Both narrow points were we can maximise our limited numbers against a limited frontage of their greater numbers. Get hold of as many bows etc as we can for our forces and obviously arrows as well."

"Beastmen love to attack at night, so work the people for half the day, then get half to rest with weapons at hand while the other half train for an hour. Then swap over the resting and training for another hour and finally give them all a good meal and rest in their combat positions, until something happens."

At the Sigmaran priests nod of acceptance Wolfgang turns to the surly dwarf, "Yes Grombar, we will defend the town again, or more importantly the bridge. For now your best course is probably to help the good Father here."

Lastly he turns to the Captain and the Mage, "Captain, I'm sorry if you feel I forced your hand, but we need to stop them taking the bridge and the Army needs the supply route without having to take the time and manpower required to rebuild it. Can I leave you two to work out how best to use Mikhail's abilities and to organise the equiping and perhaps some training for the defenders?"

At the Captain's reluctant nod of acceptance he continues, "Thank you. Now I go to do something more difficult, persuading Granny Moescher to move herself and the children back into the town for the duration of this battle!"

Grabbing his weapons and armour from the Inn Wolfgang sets out for Grannies house on the fringes of the forest outside of town, hearing the subdued noise of the children before he sees the building itself.

At Wolfgang's approach the children fall quiet, they have had enough bad experiences recently that the sight of an armoured man is unwelcome and so it is to Granny as well when she emerges from the large property.

"Morning Dame, I have bad news for us all. A large group of beastmen approach the town and we will need to defend it. For your own safety and the safety of the children, I ask that you all move into the Inn, or a nearby building until this is over."

"I've lived here in this hours for more years than I care to remember. No damn beastman is going to drive me out!"

"Granny, you are one of the leaders of the community, and their only healer. If anything happens to you, as it surely would if you stayed out here, think how demoralised that will make the townsfolk feel. Something like that could be the difference between us wining this battle, or all being slaughtered. Please, come into the town with the children where you will be protected as best as we are able, and where your healing skills are sure to be needed before tomorrows dawn."

Her demeanor softened as he spoke and it was with less haughtiness that she replied, "Well, then, perhaps as you say for the sake of the children, and my softhearted neighbours, we should come into the town." with returning spirit she continued,"But don't think I'm doing it for you young man, or for worry about myself. I've had too many winters to worry about my own skin now, but perhaps I can still help some other see a few more themselves."

With solemnity to mask his amusement Wolfgang half bowed to the old lady, "Thank you Granny, I know the townsfolk will be heartend to know that you will be there to minister to them in the difficult times to come. Although I will be needed in the fighting I have also been taught the tending of wounds and do my best to aid once the fighting is done. Perhaps once we get you all into town some of the older children could search the now disused buidings for material for bandages and poultices?"

"Aye, they could, but first I must get them organised and move the children into the town. I don't think the Inn would be the best place for us, but there is a house nearby that is now empty that the children could use and I will need to set up a hospital in one of the warehouses."

"It will be as you wish Granny, I will go ahead to start getting thimgs prepared for you."

Wolfgang quickly walked back into the town, a little happier that one old lady and the orphan children had a slightly better chance of surviving the night.

Click to reveal..

(23:45:40) (Adrian): Granny won't leave her home outside of town.

(23:51:19) (Wolfgang): try to convince her how vital she is to the people of the town and what a blow to their morale it would be when she is killed by the beastmen...

(23:51:27) ChatBot: (Wolfgang) rolls 1d100 and gets 18.

(23:51:52) (Wolfgang): Charm of 64, made it by 46

(23:54:50) ChatBot: (Adrian) rolls 1d100 and gets 92.

(23:54:56) (Adrian):shock:

(23:55:10) (Adrian): She agrees and she had an 88 to resist.

[Talos]

Mikhail sighs, as the town prepares for war. So much death would happen today because of a bridge. It was a waste. "Captain, do you have briar thickets in the area?"

"Yes, of course. Why?" The captain seemed confused by the question.

"Please give me some of the people to transplant then to the foot of the bridge. Multiple rings. I can root the plants into the ground as though they had grown there from seeds. They will deter and slow the enemy's advance to the bridge." The captain nods, a smile on his face and orders that it be done. "I will need any of the thorns that draw blood as well. They will aid my magic during the battle."

Mikhail walks the end of the bridge in the town, "I need some saplings. How many good archers are left in town? Two?!" Mikhail shakes his head at their bad fortune. "Fine, we must make do with what he have. Get me saplings and I you will see what a master wizard can do!"

Half an hour later the far side of the bridge is a flurry of action as the peasants transplant briar thickets from the forest and river banks into concentric semi circles at the foot of the bridge. Mikhail is observing, directing the work such that the thickets will be thick enough to deter even a beastman's strength. "Sir. Um. Master Wizard? Why are we doing this? These plants will tear right up when those beastmen charge into them."

Mikhail smiled, "Tend to the earth and its wonders and they will tend to you." The young lad looked confused and Mikhail laughed softly. "Watch young one, and see that the power of life is greater than you yet know."

Mikhail tends to each as they are complete and with his magic their roots grow down into the soil and take solid root as if they had grown there for decades. That done he retreats to the banks of the river and plants two of the saplings he requested on either side of the bridge. With words of power and a careful hand he coaxes the trees to grow into might adult specimens. He carefully sculpts their branches to provide comfortable vantage points for the towns archers. With more effort he then weaves protective screens from the every living branches and further branches soon form easy hand holds and stepping places. He repeats the process at the shrine as well. The villagers marvel at the fully formed adult trees where none had stood for generations.

"Your archers will be protected and gain valuable position in these trees. They will also provide summer shade if they are allowed to remain. I would be greatly disappointed if they were not allowed to remain." Mikhail's stern look conveys his displeasure at the clear cutting that had been done when the town was first built and leave little room for question as to his feelings about these trees. His threat, for that is in fact what it is, earns him respectful nods from not only the community leaders but the Captain as well.

[Rorx]

Wolfgang was suitably impressed with the progress that Mikhail was able to quickly make with the defenses and also reinforced the message that the plants should be allowed to stand with minimal interference once this was over. Obviously much of the thickets would need to be removed to give access back to the bridge, but those at the sides could be allowed to stand as a reminder to future generations.

"Hail and well done to you Mikhail, you have indeed become more powerful since last we fought together. It is times like this that I wish I had paid more attention to my magical studies, but even then the Blessings of Ulric are more suited to the ebb and flow of life and battle than to long term effects."

He then spends the day working with the townsfolk in building the walls, gathering supplies for Granny's hospital, a little weapons instruction and anywhere else he can do some good either by example or with an encouraging word. All the time he is conscious of the time until sunset and the absence of Diarmuir and Nayobee.

Once the thickets are in place and grown Wolfgang gets a few of the older children to watch for the approaching Beastmen in the tallest buildings close to the edge of town, having left ropes for them to swing out over the river and be hauled up to safety as soon as they see something.

Behind the thicket, on the bridge itself a rough wall is constructed to provide cover for people to fire into the crowd that would develop on the other side of the thicket. A second wall is built across the narrow point on the bridge, with ropes hanging down for the defenders of the first bridge to climb to safety once they are pressed to badly.

Code:

Quick questimate of situation at bridge, Y are thicket or Trees.

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((OOC let me know if anyone thinks it needs editing))

[Adrian Moss]

Schiller starts commanding the assembled work force. He and the dwarf take charge of building the first (High) wall - the one on the bridge. Two of the town's three carts ar turned ontheir sides to make a five foot barrier. Slate paving stones from the platz are piled up to anchor it, as are the precious bags of grain, turnips, and potatoes. When the dwarf and Captain can barely rock them, they are considered secure.

Granny works with some of the women to gather worn bedsheet from the abandoned homes to make into bandages. There are few other healing supplies in the town though. They also provide a hot meal for the men at noon time. The militia men go off duty to rest while their places are filled by some burghers. The prayer is that the two who left will somehow delay, or even stop the oncoming hoard. Peasents know little of battle.

The two priest take charge of building the longer, Low wall. They have to make do with the one cart and several barrels full of pickled fish, walnuts, and what have you. They both know that his barrier won't hold up a concerted push. It isn't heavy enough, but what else can they do?

Hans works with three rather hopeless peasents showing them how to use a bow. He does his best, but some of them have a problem hitting something as big as the warehouse wall.

Around noon, Captain Schiller orders both Priests, the Dwarf, and himself to bed for a few hours - just until the sun touches the forest's edged. He leaves Mikhail in charge. Mikhail muses that he and Nayobee were the only ones to get good night's sleep last night. The Priest and the Captain were doing ... whatever to the mutants and Wolfgang and the Dwarf were out tropping around and getting into a fight.

The peasents look to Mikhail signs of hope and he doesn't fail them.

Sunset

The sleepers have been roused. All the militia are up and at the Low Wall. The Dwarf, Wolfgang, and Mikhail are at the High Wall waiting. The Captain comes up with his helmet on, arguing with the Priest of Sigmar.

"My decision," Schiller states. "You stay with the lads, bolstering their spirits. I'll stand here at the wall."

The priest nods and heads back down. Hans is seen to be putting each of his peasent archers up into their tries before he scales (carefully) the shrine to Sigmar. The Captain climbs up on the platform they have built behind the carts. It will give them a height advantage yet they can still duck down when under missle fire. Grombar stand int he middle, were the carts dip the lowest. Wolfgang stands at his side. Schiller takes the edge by the hole. Another strong arm would be nice, but who can fill it?

Muttering to himself as much as anyone else, Grombar is heard to say,

"Grombar, old soul, you've lost your damn mind. You have a pony in the stables and the road to Altdorf is clear. Run away. No one will be alive by sunrise to say what's what. Why am I going to die for these lousy humans?"

Grombar give Wolfgang and accusitory eye, hoist up his repeating cross bow. He has two quivers of ten bolts each for reloads ... if he gets the chance. His axe is in easy reach, his pistols are in his sash, his new musket sets on the other side, and his whips is hooked to his belt. Hesets the crossbow on the top of the wall. He pulls out some flint and a stone then lights up the slow-burning match on the matchlock rifle. He pulls that up and looks down the barrel toward whatever may come.

[Talos]

As the day wanes Mikhail raises one last tree into a suitable blind for himself. Climbing into place as dusk fades away into darkness Mikhail looked out at the assembled militia and soldiers. Once more he shook his head, knowing full well that casualties would be heavy no matter what they could do. He unslung his bow and nocked an arrow, checked his pocket for the bloodied thorns that would aid his magic to further deter the beastmen, and looked across the river for the best locations to spring his trap. Checking his quiver once more he settled in for the long wait and hoped that this course of action did not prove disastrous.

[Rorx]

Wolfgang gives Grombar a wry grin, "Well, now we get another chance to do better this time."

He places his own crossbow on the top of the wall, but keeps his two 10bolt quivers on his belt. His hammer leans against the wall beside him in easy reach for when the Beastmen eventually make their way through the thickets. Beside his crossbow he places a small pile of iron nails amd in a belt pouch he has some tufts of dog hair and a few sprigs of holly.

[Nayobee]

Nayobee was down to two arrows but had killed 7 of the vile Beastmen in return. She needed more ammo and their mission had been unsuccessful. The Ghost Strider sighed for a second and then darted with blinding speed towards the bridge, keeping out of anyone’s sight. The self proclaimed Diarmuir was a good partner but maybe she should have gotten the shot and not him. Her bow never failed her even against heavily armoured opponents.

The guards didn’t notice her and it was Wolfgang that finally spotted her. She smirked at him and took some arrows to refill her quivers “If I had been the enemy you’d all been dead now. I will join the defensive forces here. Diarmuir had no luck killing the beast – it is mutated, Iron skinned. I think he will try to kill their shaman instead. That should still give us an advantage.”, she was moving towards the trees Mikhail had magically grown and shaped.

“They are down by 8. If we can keep them bottlenecked our chances are good to thwart their attack.”

[Adrian Moss]

{The Second Battle of Untergard Bridge - The first rush}

Wolfgang and Nayobee could see them gathering on the far side of the platz, torches held high. Wolfgang began to feel the sheer number of the enemy sink in. Somehow, the ice of Ulric filled his veins and he was not afraid. He was a little crazy that way. Nayobee kept a silent watch as did Captain Schiller. Grombar alone made noise. He muttered curses such as “what a God would destroy he first drives mad,” and other such nonsense.

The scouts came first. Nayobee welcomed them. They would see that the brambles were harmless and thus set the trap. Wolfgang didn’t see it that way and shot one of the scouts with his crossbow. It ran, but not fast enough. A second shot felled it. Nayobee was left to reminisce on the wisdom of humans. By Khaine’s Black Heart, even the dwarf knew enough to let the scouts be.

The other scouts got back and the whole Warherd began to stir. Something had them riled up. Diarmuir? Had he been captured, or had he succeeded. The darkness held out no answers and soon they had other problems on their mind. A war band of about thirty came surging forward. It was a test to see what level of opposition they were facing – a standard tactic. It was the lowest ranking Gor going in first to prove themselves, or die.

“Wait,” Nayobee said in a ghostly whisper. “Wait for it … Wait until they reach the barrier.” She alone on the bridge knew what was coming.

The beasts hit the briar patch at a run then the screaming started. They howled and brayed to their dark gods in pain and agony torches were dropped and the whole herd stumbled and slowed. It was such a racket that no one on the bridge would look at the bleating of a beaten mule in the same way again.

“Now!” Nayobee commanded. Three bows answered the call (Schiller was bow-less). Nayobee fired like a machine. Grombar’s ‘toy’ bow clacked as he shot bolt after bolt with repeater action. Wolfgang shot, pulled back slowly, and fired again. Other archers added to the fray, but mostly ineffectively (with one exception). Nayobee would have wept for all the wasted arrows had she the time.

They didn’t kill many, but it was as start. If only Nayobee has a Hand of Ghost Striders up here with her, things would have gone so differently. Such was the nature of elves.

The Gor pushed through the barrier of thorns. They left bloody hoof prints in their wake. Their leather hides were torn and bloody as were their arms. As they hit the wall, war cries broke out.

“For Untergard!” yelled Schiller.

“For Ulric!” prayed Wolfgang.

“I'll kill you before you kill me!” bellowed the Dwarf

Nayobee muttered a dark prayer that went unheard … as intended.

[Adrian Moss]

{The Fight, the Lull and a Not-so-Old Friend}

It was the press of battle that only a veteran of one could understand. Only Nayobee found herself uncomfortable. It wasn’t the Ghost Strider way to stand there, no matter how good the position, and wait for twenty-odd some Beastmen to come and get her. That kind of thinking was for stumpy Dwarves and Witless humans. Still she stood her ground.

Wolfgang’s prayers to his god were answered and he felt the strength of the Blood-Handed One course through him. Everywhere spears and axes were thrusting and chopping. Hammer, axe and sword responded. There was a tight moment when Schiller staggered back with a bad arm wound above the shield rim, but a well-placed arrow down the Beast before it could top the cart. Schiller surged back in and cleaved mightily into the one who came next.

Wolfgang pounded his enemies into the stone as if they were an affront to his God’s eyes. Nayobee danced back and forth, took an unlucky strike to the arm, but killed the Gor for its troubles. Grombar was a machine. Up came his shield to block the blow, around came his axe, and another beastman fell. What blows passed his guard may have well hit a rock for all the effects they showed.

… And then it was over. The surviving Gor fled back down the bridge, more afraid of the merciless defenders than their own Dark Gods. Three tried to make it back through the thorns, but died, impaled on those lethal spikes. Five more jumped into the river, not all would make it up the steep banks.

They were all panting. Schiller eyed the heroes speculatively.

“I must admit, I didn’t think we could hold them. You all fought well.”

Grombar looked up at Wolfgang who rested on his hammer (it is that long a weapon).

“Lad, we should be going. This was just a test. We won’t last the next push.”

Wolfgang looked down on him and smiled. He needed no words. Grombar grumped then said,

“Best be moving those bodies out of the way or they’ll ‘em as a ramp to come up and get us.”

Human and dwarf scrambled over the wall and began dumping bodies while Nayobee stood watch. Her keen eyes spotted the trouble first. The Beastmen had set one of the buildings on fire and were milling about, confused. Their War Leader had moved forward stand in the eves of one of the ruined buildings, but the shaman must have been elsewhere (like in Hell).

Diarmuir appeared in a puff of smoke and came running up the bridge. He hails the two pushing the bodies down the hole then he scrambled squirrel-like over the wall and sat down. He was bleeding from two arrow wounds to his arms.

Schiller asks,

“What happened?”

“They had a Shaman. It’s dead. Leader is Baa-raak Bloodhorn and the bloody thing is made out of some unholy metal. I wasted eight bolts trying to injure him,” he adds disgustedly. “Damn Chaos Spawn!”

“Are you going to stay?” the Captain says next.

Diarmuir glares at the old man a moment. He could have been miles down the River road by now … but he wasn’t for reasons he was still trying to grasp.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

He is definitely in a foul mood. About this time, Granny comes up with the stable boy. The boy brings up two buckets of water. Granny starts tending to the wounded, Diarmuir first. Grabbing the boy with his free arm, the Bounty Hunter says,

“Boy, rush back to my horse and bring me my spare quiver of bolts,” and before he lets go, “and the ones bundled up in my saddle bags,” and finally, “and every spare bolt you find along the way. Now run!’

The boy sees into those eyes. The pale one stung with bale iciness while the copper one burned. The boy ran. Granny tsked.

“This is his fight two, Messenger, Hunter, whom ever you are.”

Over the wall, the Dwarf was silent. Wolfgang content in tossing the damned into the river didn’t notice the Dwarf staring bloody murder at him.

They were all finished and drinking some water when Nayobee whispered in her ghostly voice, almost lovingly,

“They are coming.”

Just then the boy came running over the low wall with all the bolts his little thin arms could carry.

“Bounty Hunter, Elf – one of you takes a position across from the hole and shoots. Watch the far bridge wall. They may try to run up it and get behind us,” Schiller commanded.

Diarmuir looked at the elf, shrugged and took the exposed position. Beneath them, the screams began, but the form of Baa-raak Bloodhorn could be seen pushing through the thorns, barely impeded. The thorns pulled at his armor, but none found purchase in his flesh.

[Talos]

The beastmen of the first wave surged forward heedless of the brair thickets that they thought would pose barely an irritation. Mikhail summoned his will and threw it out, his hand clenched into a fist driving one of the bloody thorns into his palm. The pain was subsumed into his magic and suddenly the briars themselves rose to action, thorns grew into scythes and daggers and vines twisted round leg, arm, and torso, cutting and tearing flesh. Chaos twisted beasts cried out and stumbled through the thorns finally muscling out and onto the bridge charging for the forward line.

Mikhail tied the spell off, allowing it to run its course on its own and drew an arrow back to his ear. With a nearly silent twang it flew straight and true into another of the creature's felling it with a shot through its eye. Another. Another. Mikhail fired as fast he smoothly could and still make his aim count. He wasted no arrows, each shot was held until it could wound or kill. Even the arrow that saved Captain Schiller's life was not loosed before its time.

And then it was over, the remnants fled into the thorny briars once more and while several made it would they were fewer still than those who had fled. Mikhail looked down at his hand at the puckered wound where the thorn had driven into his flesh and become part of his magic. "Blood for our lives! Our lives for our blood!" he shouted into the night.

[Adrian Moss]

{Death on the Delb}

Nayobee takes a stance on top of the wagons, aims and starts firing rapidly toward Bloodhorn. Diarmuir can barely believe his eyes, even as he fires, that her arrows find purchase and the mighty chief staggers. Diarmuir fires into the bodyguard around Baa-raak, killing one before him himself is otherwise engaged. The Beastmen are trying to flank the wall by running along the bridges guard wall. Seven try and fail, three going in the river, two falling in the hole, and one falling, but hanging on for his life. Three are coming at him. He looses his last bolts. They both hit. One send a Beastman head first into the river. The other renders one dead with a shot to the had and it falls toward him. The last one jumps down and faces him. Now it is time for hand to hand combat!

‘Fuck this,’ Diarmuir thinks. The overly-skilled Bounty Hunter rolls back, grabs up the Dwarf’s Repeating crossbow and fires it point-blank into the charging creature. The shot hits it in the groin and punches through to its tailbone. It makes this horrid squeaking noise as it falls over and dies.

The tide broke against the wall, Bloodhorn leading the way. Wolfgang was there to meet him. Once more a prayer escaped his lips. The Beastman swung first, his axe biting into the cart. Wolfgang’s response rang hollowly off its shoulder. Was this abomination fated not to die? His counterblow to the Priest of Ulric was a blow to the arm that drove the very armor of his mail bloodily into his flesh. Another priestly blow is dodged and a blow then falls upon his mail coif. Wolf is staggered.

To his side, Schiller takes a wound to the gut, but manages to kill first one opponent then another that rushes up in its place. The old man is grimacing. He knows they are just too many – even with the magic and the Gods, how can they win?

Grombar cares not for any Gods right now, not even the stoic Gods of his youth. He is too busy killing and killing. His job is made easier that his foes are trying to get at Wolfgang and not him. He cares only that they die at his axe.

Clearly the best fighter here, Nayobee toys with her prey before finishing it off. Her blade slithers and slashes and Beastmen fall. Even though see senses her impending doom, she cares not. That her fate now seems to be in the hands of Wolfgang sits poorly with her. She knows if she had but a few more yards distance, she could have killed their chief and broken their will. Time fades down to the instance, and another Beastman dies.

Wolfgang feels the battle turning against them. His people kill, but there must be over fifty more Beastmen pushing in, and he is making no progress against the enemy leader. Bracing himself he winds up his hammer in a great arc. Bloodhorn strikes, but once more the doughty cart saves the day. When Bloodhorn sees the hammer coming he steps nimbly aside; it does him no good. Instead of hitting him in the shoulder, it gathers momentum and slams into his hip. The shattering of his metallic hide is heard all along the line and further. Bones are pulverized, arteries severed and a fountain of blood erupts. With a shocked expression on his face, the Champion of Chaos falls into a pile of his own filth.

[Adrian Moss]

{Bravery Above and Beyond - or, What has He done Now?}

This was the moment the battle turned on … or so it seemed to Wolfgang. Panting, he looked into the eyes of the Beastmen ranks. There was fear and uncertainty. This was time for decisive action. It came from an unexpected source. To the flank of the enemy, an army appeared, trumpets blaring. Chaos broke out at the base of the bridge. One war band ran into the midst (mist) of the enemy bellowing war cries. Two other decided that enough was enough and rapidly moved out of town heading north and east. The remaining war bands on the bridge were shaken.

In this brief pause in the battle, the young stable boy broke from cover (think I had forgotten him?) and retrieved Diarmuir’s crossbow. Diarmuir took the opportunity to pop off two more quick shots with the Dwarf’s toy before retrieving his lady love from the boy’s arms. He also slammed a handful of bolts from the reserve store the boy had brought into his own quiver. Diarmuir knew the nature of the bluff. They had them. They had won.

Wolfgang saw the other army appear and saw it as Divine Providence. He leapt over the wall and stared face to face with the enemy.

“Crazy Human,” Grombar muttered, “he’s getting us all dead,” but he followed him, short legs scrambling over the side.

Diarmuir was less gentle.

‘Moron! Defenders. DE-FEN-DERS! What about that don’t you understand?’ he thought.

Nayobee knew much about the shortness of men’s lives, like what was happening right about now – throwing away victory into the jaws of defeat. She jumped up on the wall and vowed to sell her arrows dearly. She saw her first target and fired. It gave a suitable grunt when hit.

“Run, Scum, Run from the Wrath of the Wolf God!" Wolfgang shouted as he charged. The mighty hammer that had felled Bloodhorn struck again. It was an ill-omened start. His blow struck nothing but the bridge and Grombar’s blow was easily blocked. They pounded on him hard in return, but the Dwarf did not budge from Wolfgang’s side. The Beastmen roared out their anger and closed in from all sides. Hard pressed, the Priest of Ulric laid around him mightily. One then two foes fell with crushed limbs. Grombar felled one then shoved another into the hole at his side. More blows fell upon the dwarf, but his shield rose up and he back stepped the damage. Two beasts came under Wolf’s great arching hammer and bled his right leg.

“Get out of there you fools,” Captain Schiller exclaimed. He was barely holding his own section of the wall from the renewed attack, though bolts of magic striking his foes helped matters greatly.

“Step back with me,” Wolfgang shouted over the din to Grombar. He was spared a blasting glare Grombar normally saved for oath breakers and tea-tottlers. The pulled off their retreat, placing their backs to the wall, but there was no way they could vault back over (they weren’t Diarmuir after all) the wall unscathed. Meanwhile above them, Nayobee had the measure of her targets. The first would be replacement for Bloodhorn died choking on his own blood. The next most likely candidate took three shots in quick succession before he was propelled to his Dark Gods. The final Dark Hero saw what was coming and ducked with some small success. She didn’t need to reach back into her quiver to know it was empty. She hated leaving a job incomplete.

All this was having some effect on the remains of the Warherd. The ones in the back were already skulking over the side of the bridge and swimming the few yards to the non-thorned river bank. Now, with their chieftains dead, more were pushing their way to the rear and from a conflict they now felt was pointless. Beastmen needed to be led with a strong hand. Without it, it was each monster for itself. Dying for a burned out town with a tough outer core wasn’t’ on their agenda. All Wolfgang and Grombar had to do was last until the last band broke.

What of Diarmuir?

[Adrian Moss]

{Trying not to die and You did what?}

In retrospect, Diarmuir held half the bridge ... all by himself with a stable boy to feed him bolts as he ducked and fired around the last wagon. Sure now, there was a hole on that side of the bridge, but Beastmen had gathered there and some of those had bows.

Who ever said that Beastmen bowmen were lousy deserved a knife in the gut and a slow death at Diarmuir's hands. One arrow shot his hat off and left a bleeding wound over his left eye. Another gave him a nasty hole in his right arm. Mind you the cart he hid behind took many more. For Diarmuir, this was soldier's work and he was no soldier. This was butchery in its rawest form, not a place for finesse, skill and grace. Not even looking up at Nayobee’s elvish posterior could make up for this.

I'm not going to die in this damn place, he swore, eyeing his rope.

Above him, Nayobee loosed her last arrow and drew her sword ... and jumped over the wall. She had clearly lost her mind as well.

Wolfgang swung his hammer in mighty arcs, trying to buy himself and the Dwarf some room. The creatures kept outside of the arch then jumped in to strike. His head rung from an axe blow, but his dwarf-forged breastplate turned aside a powerful spear thrust.

Again his blows found no targets as the Beastmen hungered for his blood. Grombar felled one in front of him, trying to take some of the pressure off his friend. Wolfgang ducked under one blow to his head, was caught again when he popped back up then took a third blow to his arm. More blood was lost. His turn was coming though. A blow caught an axe-wielding monster in the chest staggering it. No counterblow caught him. Grombar felled another.

Wolf felled the beast he had wounded, but his prayer to Ulric was weak and found wanting. A beast bigger than normal came charging in and brought down a powerful two-handed axe right were the Priest of Ulric had been standing. The cart cracked and splintered. At the same moment he dodge his death, a shadow passed overhead. It was Nayobee running atop the heads of the Beastmen and landing in their rear.

Wolfgang killed the Large Axe-bearing Beast with a hammer blow to the ribs, leaving it to die chocking on its own blood. He danced away from a sword blow to his leg. He heard a cry from the rear of the beasts. He felt the anger that drives the chaos spawn to battle falling away to fear. They started running back down the bridge only to be packed against the Thorn Hedge. Some started jumping over the sides to escape. Nayobee stood there, a large Beastmen at her feet and the slightest hint of a smile upon her sculpted face.

“My crossbow,” Wolfgang called out. Schiller handed it over, shaking his head. Grombar was glad that they weren’t charging after them. A cornered foe could be the nastiest. Wolf’s arms were burning from the exertion of the fight and it made his aim unsteady. He was only able to kill one before the rest were gone. Many left their bodies hanging in the thorns. Nayobee was already searching the bodies of the slain, gathering up arrows for her spent quiver.

Granny came up and took care of Diarmuir first, wrapping curative poultices over his wounds.

“They smell, but they knit back the flesh, young man. Leave them be.”

She then went back to the Captain. Diarmuir stood upon the wall looking upon what his compatriots had wrought. The bridge was a blood, body-choked mess. Nayobee was like an angel of death moving over the field, gathering up quivers with on hand while twisting a knife into the ones not quite dead.

Wolf called out to Ulric, laying a healing hand upon himself and Grombar. Somewhere his God laughed. Schiller looked more aged than normal with his multiple bandages on both arms and his head. Granny walked over the barricade without a hint of disgust or fear. Looking over at Wolfgang she said,

“Come here, young priest. Let me see that head wound.”

At the same time, Grombar and Diarmuir saw another war band gathering in the platz and eye them. Diarmuir counted about thirty. At the same time, Mikhail arrived on the wall, quiver empty and axe in hand.

“You can beat a beast, but does that make it learn?”

They climbed back over the wall. Nayobee handed a quiver of Beastmen arrows to Mikhail without a word. The Beastmen gave them a long look. They were the last of the Warherd of 200. Everyone else had fled, drowned in the river, or was dead on that bridge. They sat there silent for nearly five minutes then began fading into the night. It was over. Suddenly they were all very tired. The Second Battle of Untergard Bridge had ended.