OG: Chapter 46

As my force charged forward, I saw that the Corpsecaller wasn't completely abandoning the siege to turn about and fight us. Instead, it had left its pale, corpse-white, Bray Shaman in charge of keeping Anders and what troops remained in Vimera penned in. Of course, as we were the larger threat, the Corpsecaller took the bulk of its forces to face us, trusting in the Bray Shaman's Magic to bolster the Gors, Ungors, and relatively few Minotaurs that were kept back. This came swiftly, as the Bray Shaman began to chant in a guttural, bestial tongue before shouting aloud, expelling magic into the gathered Beastmen Forces, keeping Anders and his Men penned up in Vimera. These Beastmen joined in on the shout, turning it into a chorus of roars as they began to attempt to mount the walls with renewed fury.

Anders began to chant in his own Druidic Tongue before grasping a stick at his feet, transforming it into a mystical throwing dagger that he launched at one of the climbing Minotaurs. The Magical Weapon bit deep and true, sinking into the Minotaur's Brain and sending it careening off the crude ladder built of tree branches and leather cord that the Beastmen had erected. The Bray Shaman chanted gutturally again, before opening its maw to expel a torrent of hissing, steaming blood and bile at Anders atop the wall, only for Anders to chant in Druidic and unweave the Chaos Sorcery that struck out for him.

That was all I had time to watch of the Mystical Duel that was occurring on the walls before I had to get my head in the game and begin fighting. The Gryphon Gun-Howitzers began landing shots amidst the packed ranks of the Beastmen, mowing down dozens with each salvo, while I gripped my Custom Streltsy Revolving Autorifle in my off hand and fired a full cylinder of shots at various targets. My first two managed to punch into the torso and skull of a snarling Doombull whose Black Iron Axe seemed to glow with a fell green light. The two shots made it sink to its knees, bleeding out on the ground. My next three downed a Wargor Foe Render in Black Iron Armor, leading a Regiment of Gors with Axes and Shields. The Wargor Foe-Render's hide was tough as leather armor beneath the Black Iron, and I knew that had to be a blessing from Khorne. It took three shots from my Magic Rifle to put it down.

Of course, for my last shot, I took aim at the Corpsecaller, taking a deep breath before squeezing the trigger as I tried to hit it. Unfortunately, it seemed the cloud of flies that accompanied it warned it of the shot somehow in time for the Corpsecaller to lean out of the way. Instead, my shot struck a relatively low-value target, splitting the skull of a random Gor holding an axe and shield. The Corpsecaller's muzzle parted in what could charitably be called a sneer as it let out a throaty rumble. I realized then that it was laughing at my attempt, which only furthered my desire to see it dead at the end of all this.

Unfortunately, I didn't have much time left to reload and try something else, because we were coming up on the enemy formation. Instead, I holstered my Custom Streltsy in the saddle holster and couched the lance I had in my main hand, preparing to plunge into the fray. To my immediate right, beyond Radamenes, who was keeping pace with my mount as we charged, Ion was leading a similar charge with his Strigany, while to my left, Francois de Montjoie was leading another cavalry charge with his Mounted Yeomen. At the extreme end of my left flank, Kaspar Fedorenko, newly-created Baron of Aldium, was leading a charge of Kislevite Winged Lancers who had come with him to the Border Princes as Mercenaries and now formed the Cavalry Arm of the Aldium Forces. As I braced for impact, I refocused on the force in front of me and took a deep breath. Then our four cavalry wedges impacted the Beastmen Lines.

For Ion and his Strigany, it was a lot easier than for the rest of us. They were able to soften up their opponent with darts and javelins flung into the mass of braying, screeching Beastmen to break up their lines. For me, however, it wasn't so easy. The Unit of Gors we had charged managed to put up a wall of crudely fashioned spears and looted Khypris Border Guard Halberds to try and repel our charge. I stretched out my off-hand and incanted the language of magic, using the Arabyan Puzzle Box in my saddlebags to power a spell I would normally not be capable of casting. The Burnished Gauntlet appeared in mid-air before racing toward the Spear Gor that was aiming his bronze-tipped spear at my mount. The spell bowled that Spear Gor over, allowing me through, but the Cavalry Guards to my left and right weren't so lucky, their mounts gored by spears and the spikes of looted halberds, throwing them to the ground.

I couldn't focus on that, however, as my mount trampled over the fallen Spear Gor and Radamenes leaped for the throat of a nearby Spear Gor to widen the breach in the wall of spears and Halberds. I had fights of my own to deal with, after all. As I thought that, my Lance punched through the scavenged sleeved chainmail coat that a Halberd Gor had clearly looted off the body of a dead Khypris Border Guard, along with its weapon, goring the Gor and pinning him to the ground. My lance snapped in two, and I flung the end at a charging Wargor Foe-Render, hopped up on Khorne Flakes from the look of its unnaturally bulging muscles. It swiped down with its Black Iron Axe with a bellow, cleaving the solid oak shaft of my lance in twain, but that gave me time to draw my Runeblade.

As the Wargor Foe-Render charged me, axe cutting down with a keening wail, I snapped off a textbook parry that caught the Black Iron Axe just under the head. A flick of my wrist and an activation of my various enhancements allowed me to wrench the Axe from out of its grasp, my multiple enhancements trumping its singular enhancement. My riposte then cleaved its head from its body as it blinked dumbly at having been disarmed. As its head toppled to the ground, it kept its dumbfounded expression. I smirked at that, only to turn suddenly as a loud roar from Radamenes alerted me to an attack from the side. A Doombull whose arms and legs were bulging with tumors was charging me with a massive, gnarled club of oak and bronze, clearly having been favored by Nurgle.

Thankfully, Radamenes leaped at the Doombull, causing it to pivot to the side slightly and drop its club in favor of catching my Feline Companion in its tumor-riddled arms. They struggled for just a moment before the Doombull got the upper hand, but a moment was all I needed to lash out with my Runeblade and thrust through its side, biting into its kidney and spleen. The Doombull dropped Radamenes, then, who lashed out with his claws as he kicked off the Doombull, gouging into the thing's crusty, scab-riddled skin, wounding it further as it shook on the edge of my Runeblade. It turned, widening the puncture wound, but smashing its fist into my face, busting open my lip, and knocking out a tooth from the force behind the blow. Before it could hit me again, I twisted my Runeblade, wrenching it out of the side. Whatever blessings Nurgle had given the thing, that proved to be too much, and the Doombull sank to the ground with a plaintive, bleating whine.

I turned my horse, spitting blood and fragments of broken tooth onto the ground, before surveying the Battlefield. Ion, Francois de Montjoie, and Kaspar Fedorenko had all bit deep into the formation of the Beastmen, though of us, Ion had managed to penetrate the deepest with the least casualties. Under the constant cavalry assault, the Beastmen Right Flank was threatening to come apart. If we could pour on the pressure, we might be able to turn the flank and get them to rout. Over in the center and on the left, the infantry had engaged under Ruggiero's direction, alongside Augustus Von Hagedorn. They were fighting under cover provided by Martine's Longbow Guards and Quintavalla's Quarellers. Meanwhile, on the extreme left, my Handgunners were managing to repel an attack by charging Centigors, with the Centigor Leader, a Gorehoof that was covered in crusty scabs and had buzzing flies, signifying it had been doubly-blessed by Nurgle, weakened by a spell from Ygraine De Salignac, succumbed to a hail of bullets.

Meanwhile, the Artillery was bombarding something that had just come out of the woods, another Jabberslythe which had likely been summoned by the Corpse-Pale Bray Shaman, who even now was locked in a duel of Spell and Steel against Anders that seemed to be at a stalemate, even as the Ungors and Gors fought the defenders of Vimera on the walls around them. I realized that it may look like we were holding our own for the moment, even on the verge of winning, despite the numerical advantage the Beastmen still had, but that was deceptive. This battle could still swing either way.

I would just have to keep moving forward and put my trust in the hope that it would swing our way before it swung the Corpsecaller's. . .

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Anders Hellman snarled in frustration as he battled the Beastmen's Bray Shaman. The issue was that as a Master of the Hedgefolk, he didn't have much in the way of direct attack spells, and what he did have mostly required him to touch his target. Unfortunately, the Bray Shaman seemed to understand that and was using the Sorcery of the Ruinous Powers to keep him at bay and out of range to touch him. The most effective spell for this situation would have been the Spell of Wyrd Ward, which required Anders to grasp his opponent, but would sever the Connection between the Bray Shaman and the Chaotic Magics of the Ruinous Powers it was wielding to keep him at bay.

Of course, Anders had a spell he could use to close the distance in such a way that the Bray Shaman couldn't keep him at bay any longer, the spell of Sightstep, which would allow him to vanish from the senses of any magic user, effectively allowing Anders to sneak in close enough to successfully use the Spell of Wyrd Ward. Unfortunately, he needed the room to cast the spell, and that wasn't very forthcoming at the moment, given how sorely pressed Anders was just defending against the constant barrage of boiling blood, acrid bile, and other such horrific attacks that the Bray Shaman threw his way. Were Anders a Sigmarite, he would be willing to offer a prayer that Sigmar smite the Bray Shaman as it attempted to draw further upon the Chaotic Energies of the Ruinous Powers. Honestly, he might even be tempted to offer a small prayer for that, regardless.

As it was, Anders doubted that he would get a favorable response from Sigmar, a God who famously preached about destroying the witch. Technically speaking, Anders was one such witch, at least as far as the Sigmarites were concerned. All Hedgefolk were, as they were not slaves to the Colleges of Magic in Altdorf. In the end, Anders would need to defeat the Bray Shaman on his own. Unfortunately, the longer the stalemate continued, the closer the Beastmen came to overrunning the men on the walls. True, Anders had placed a reserve in the streets behind makeshift barricades to defend against just such an occasion, but he knew that wasn't something that would stop the Beastmen. Only slow them down somewhat. No, if he lost the wall, he would lose Vimera. True, he and a select few might be able to hole up in the Baron's Keep and might keep the Beastmen at bay, but that would still leave the town to be ransacked.

Anders' mind was brought back to the present by the Beastman Bray Shaman snarling at him in that savage guttural tongue that the Beastmen used, stretching out its bony wrists to cast a foul curse at him, one which would cause Anders to break out in rampant boils, rendering him ripe for killing. Anders began to chant in Druidic, tearing apart the foul Chaotic Energies of the Plaguefather and ripping apart the curse by its Dhar-Tainted roots. In response, he lunged forward, trying to use the reach of his Staff to his advantage. Unfortunately, the Bray Shaman also had a quarterstaff and knew how to use it, as well as having the blessings of its Dark God besides. The clash of staves clacked out as Anders tried to bring his own enchanted weapon to bear before the Bray Shaman could do likewise. In the end, after crossing staves six times, the Bray Shaman snarled out something in its guttural tongue, before letting out a massive roar that threw Anders back and rattled his bones.

Anders landed near a pair of Gors, bowling them over and allowing the single Vimeran Spear Guard to stab down and kill them both. That was a silver lining, but as Anders struggled to stand, he realized that this couldn't continue. He would need to do something that might seem a tad drastic if he wanted to break this stalemate. His Robe was powered by the elemental magics of the Arabyan Djinni, and he might be able to use its ability to create a cloud of smoke to get close enough to the Bray Shaman to successfully hit it with the Spell of Wyrd Ward. If he could do that, it would strip the Chaotic Power that the Bray Shaman was using to compete with Anders, leaving only the Bestial Lore of the Wild for it to rely on, and that was something that Anders knew well how to deal with.

The only issue was that doing so would also obscure Anders' vision as well, and in a situation like this, where they were fighting atop the walls of a town, that could prove a deadly mistake. However, if he just did nothing and allowed this stalemate to continue, then he would inevitably lose. There was nothing for it. Anders would have to try and see if it would pan out or not. Either way, this would be a critical moment in the battle that success or failure would hinge upon.

And Ranald help him, at this point, Anders Hellman was ready to throw those dice. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here's the next chapter. As you can clearly see, the battle could go either way at this juncture. Sure, there's a chance for the MC to turn the Beastmen's Right Flank and win a victory in the field, but if Anders' Gambit on the wall fails, then it will all be for nothing, as the Beastmen will just sack Vimera anyway. However, without taking that risk, then the stalemate continues, and they still lose. It's all gonna come down to the next chapter to see what happens with the Third Battle of Vimera.

At any rate, said next chapter will be the second half of the Third Battle of Vimera, then we'll have an interlude involving the High Warchief of the Zani Hill Tribes as he seeks to take advantage of the situation with the Corpsecaller to raid and seize lands in the lowlands. I'll also have a character sheet update out before then as well.

Stay tuned. . .