An Old Campaign #1

Padre

Member
So, armed with no more encouragement than The Fat Git’s approval, I am embarking on a blast from my own past. I will make an effort to post often. I never had a blog (well, I tried but it never got going) and instead did the sort of thing that I am going to start posting here.

The first bunch of stuff is from my first Warhammer Internet campaign (August 2008) called ‘Crisis in Marienburg’. I enjoyed it so much it became the first of many.

The first piece was my illustrated arrival in the campaign. I wanted folks to see the army as it disembarked onto the docks. I am glad I have done this, because none of this had ever been taken from the old forum and I now have a chance to lift it and save it against disappearing when the forum finally does.

Conrad Gelburtz appears in other things have done, but here he makes his first appearance.

…………………………………………………………
Ho, good citizens of Marienburg!

Joyous news!

The great and famous Admiral Conrad Gelburtz has come to the city in our hour of need.

Our brave adventurer has returned from a successful cruise, and has brought his army back with him.
He has come bearing gold, silver, spices, silks and damasks. He has brought sulphur for our gunpowder mill, and has hired and transported a regiment of Tilean pikemen to assist us in this time of war.

Surely now, with this new army, we will drive back the foes that have arrayed themselves against us?

Come, gather at the dockside and watch his (1999 pts) force disembark from his fleet

Here’s Conrad himself (in a blue coat), accompanied by the brave and fearless (redcoated) Bertrand Le Bourreur…

MarienburgConradBertrand.jpg


General (162 pts)
Admiral Conrad Gelburtz [Marienburg]
Brace of pistols (12), Holy Relic [Crystal of Yxtol) (45), Icon of Magnus (25)

Captain (80 pts)
Bertrand Le Bourreur [Marienburg]
Sword of Righteous Steel [Whip of Justice] (30)

And who’s that over there? Yes, it’s the master of magic himself Old Gisbech, talking to one of the warehouse guards. I wonder what exotic goods the grey haired wizard has brought back – perhaps enough to fill a warehouse? Who would have thought that the wily old devil could have survived yet another ocean voyage?

MarienburgWizard.jpg


Battle Wizard (135 pts)
Old Gisbech
Lvl 2, Wizard’s Staff (10), Dispel Scroll (25)

It seems we’ve missed the city’s own Halberdiers as they disembarked first and have rushed home to see their wives and children.
(I forgot to take a photo of these!!!)

Core Halberdiers (315 pts)
25 ‘Red Company’ Halberdiers [Marienburg]
Full Command, Heavy Armour, Halberd, Immune to Panic + 2 detachments of 6 Free Co’ (60)

Here they are, the mercenary scum we love to see, Tileans! And even better – there’s a company of Ironguts disembarking off the ship behind them! See how neatly these professional soldiers drill. Let them be an inspiration to our own city militia.

MarienburgPikeOgres.jpg


Pikemen (360)

30 Alvise’s Mercenary Pikemen [Tilean]
Full Command, Pike, Heavy Armour

4 Ogre Ironguts (242)
Full Command

And who is to form Conrad’s honour guard for his procession into the city? It’s his handgunners. Hurray. Hey, you, old beggar – get lost. Stop bothering them brave sailors.

MarienburgHandgunners.jpg


Handgunners (90)
10 Conrad’s Musquetiers [Marienburg]
Immune to Panic

Handgunners (90)
10 Bertrand’s Musquetiers [Marienburg]
Immune to Panic

Yes, we knew they had to be here (otherwise who sailed the ships home!) it’s Conrad’s stout seamen – and look, they're going to march to battle too! See how they are arraying themselves in ranks and files for war.

MarienburgFreeComp.jpg


Free Company (145)
25 Conrad’s Crew [Marienburg]
Full Command

Now don’t get angry, good folk of the city, they might just prove useful on the field of battle. But do make sure to watch your purses in the meantime. Yup, no scurvy sea dog is too base for hire in Conrad’s army – it’s a bunch of Estalians. Stop booing over there – they’ve come to help!

MarienburgEstalianDuellists.jpg


Estalian Skirmishers (60)
10 Pedro’s Gang [Estalian]
Slings, shield, Champion

Ah, now that’s more like it! The kind of warrior that makes us all proud, and sporting shiny pistols in good working order. Huzzah for the duellists!

MarienburgDuellists.jpg


Duellists with pistols (100)
10 Bertrand’s Crew [Marienburg]
Sword, Pistols (+4), Champion, Skirmishers

Woah now! Here we go – that’s the business Conrad! They ain’t ship’s guns but the real thing. Don’t know where he got ‘em, but I think we’re looking at two of Nuln’s best. I hope those boys know how to use them.

MarienburgCannons.jpg


Two Great Cannon (220) {Both with 2 extra crewmen (+20)}

Three cheers for Conrad. Hip, hip, hurray! Hip, hip …. Wait a minute. Where are they all going? Someone stop them, don’t let them go off into Suiddock – the taverns, the stews, the alehouses. Don’t you see? We’ll never get them out again. Stop them someone!

Too late.

MarienburgDrunks.jpg


Ah well, they’ve got their shares of the profit to spend. At least we’ll be rich when the enemy approaches. Maybe we can bribe them?

Unless … maybe Conrad has a cunning plan (involving flowers and a small gnome with some ostrich feathers on a stick)?

MarienburgConradOfficerCarousing.jpg


(Edited 'cos I muddled up the pics a bit)
 

Padre

Member
Second installment of Crisis in Marienburg Campaign fluff - a Battle Report from 2008

The Battle of Western Kasteel

Having received his first orders from Avermarshall Konig von Kuttenbach of Averland, Conrad Gelburtz gathered up his force from the taverns and inns of Suiddock and led them out of the city early in the morning despite their aching heads. Breakfast was ale and bread, taken in the few rests on the march.

They were heading towards the village of Melik, just north of Westen Kasteel, where there was intelligence of a Sigmarite allied mercenary Dwarfen army moving towards the city itself. The mercenaries were led by a young Lord whose name was unknown to Conrad, but he cared little, for he was confident the fellow would be dead by nightfall.

MerxhelmTerrain-1.jpg


Ahead lay the battlefield and the village. The latter was empty, as the villagers had heard the blaring of horns and beating of drums and knew full well what was about to happen. They had been expecting trouble what with Westen Kasteel's occupation by the invading Sigmarite armies, and had already been raided twice. All had now fled towards Klessen to hide and await the outcome. The road stretched north-south from one side of the battlefield to the other, with an area of fenland to the west and the village to the east.

MerxhelmDeployment-1.jpg


Conrad commanded the Tilean Pike regiment, and ordered the Averland Halberdiers to stay on his left flank. Both these regiments moved south across the open fields to the west of the road. The two Handgunner companies were to form the wings of this main body, with one leading the way down the road ahead of Bertrand and the Free Company.

Spotting the hill about the same time as he saw the dwarfen vanguard, Conrad ordered both his cannons to deploy there. Meanwhile he sent his skirmishers through the town – they would spring any traps and then come round on the left flank to support the main attack. The Ogres were instructed to trail behind the two main regiments, ready to deploy on their right flank when there was space.

The dwarfs had brought a lot of firepower – 20 Handgunners, a cannon, 20 Quarrellers and two Bolt Throwers. Conrad cursed himself for not bringing more handgunners (he’d left several companies to guard his fleet). The Dwarfs deployed their strength opposite Conrad’s strong centre, with a regiment of Warriors backed up by a regiment of Hammerers. A company of the dreaded Slayers blocked the road, while the missile troops formed four bodies in a long line, with the war machines spread along it too.

MerxhelmB.jpg


Merxhelm1.jpg


As the Duellists made their cautious way through the village, with the Estalians lagging behind, the cannons both opened fire. Incredibly one of them scored a direct hit on the dwarfen cannon with it’s first shot, destroying it and ensuring that the two main regiments would not have to face the horror of advancing direct towards it’s muzzle.

The army moved forwards as one, with Handgunners and Detachments acting bravely as screens for the main regiments. Conrad had promised the survivors of those companies that received the first enemy shot a double share of the plunder and loot, and with dwarfen handguns and pistols for the taking they were keen.

Merxhelm2.jpg


The Duellists emerged from the village to report that it seemed empty. Old Gisbech, still amongst them, now decided he would enter the house next to him and make his way to the upper storey – from the safety of a window he intended to rain forked lightning down on the foe.

Meanwhile the dwarfs opened fire, though some had moved instead. Their first dose of missiles slew some of the Handgunners on the road and nearly wiped out a detachment. The bolt throwers achieved nothing.

MerxhelmA.jpg


In return the Marienburgers reloaded and fired once more. The two cannons chose to play into the Hammerers and luck smiled on them a second time – in fact they couldn’t believe it. They scored a direct hit on the dwarfen general, and his old warrior guard were too slow to pull him away. The very heart of the dwarfen force, it’s commander, lay dead – and not a sword had yet been drawn!

Notice the hole in the Hammerers?
Merxhelm4.jpg


As the main regiments drew ever closer – both sides, it has to be admitted, moving cautiously, both trying to cover their flanks, both perhaps at heart afraid of the enemies’ firepower – the dwarfs let fly another withering volley. This time they took down an Irongut and more Handgunners. But yet again their bolt throwers merely ploughed their missiles into the soggy ground!

The two skirmishing companies now moved forwards, thought the Estalians still preferred the concealment of the houses and moved parallel to the Duellists but staying with the lane in the village.

Merxhelm5.jpg


Old Gisbech slew three of the Slayers with his magic, and enjoyed the cheer that went up from the boys in the street below – they always loved his firework displays. If only the presence of all those dwarfs wasn’t clouding his thoughts. The cannons thought to join in the fun once again, but this time could only wing the Hammerers. By now the Handgunners on the right flank, in the fen below the hill upon which the artillery stood, had taken shelter among the reeds and bogwort and begun firing out of it at the dwarfen crossbows upon the other side.

Yet again, however, the fighting regiments hesitated, as if both sides were uncertain yet if they had inflicted enough damage on the enemy with their firepower. Conrad had started to think that the artillery could win the battle for him on their own!

When the dwarfs third bout of missile fire was unleashed, Conrad started to realise he needed to get his lads stuck in. Another two Ironguts fell to bolt throwers and crossbows, leaving the lone survivor to break and run in panic!

Merxhelm6.jpg


Now that their protective shield of detachments had been shattered, the halberdiers started to fall to crossbow bolts – and their desperate cry to advance was heard by Conrad and understood. The two armies were now beginning to draw very close …

Merxhelm7.jpg


With a cheer, the Free Company and the Duellists both charged simultaneously into the Slayers – surely their numbers and skill would outmatch the legendary bravery of the crazy dwarfs? While they threw themselves into the battle, the Estalians finally emerged from the village, only to cower behind a stone wall when they saw the Thunderers waiting there on the right flank of the enemy!

Merxhelm8.jpg


As one cannon lobbed a ball into the midst of the dwarfen warriors, the other – its barrel growing hot and it’s crew nervous – misfired. Meanwhile on the road Bertrand was slain and fell in the first moment of the fight, and two more warriors fell from each side. But numbers won out, and the fight went on – favouring Conrad’s brave sailors.

The dwarfs now seemed hesitant, and both their Warriors and their Hammerers started falling backwards – they didn’t want to receive the enemies charge, but yearned somehow to deliver one themselves. Their prayers would not be answered! Meanwhile their Thunderers, Quarrellers and Bolt Throwers started tearing great ragged holes in Conrad’s two main regiments.

Enough was enough, Conrad ordered the charge. Both regiments just made it to the foe and combat was joined.

Merxhelm9.jpg


While they began their fight, the Slayers and Free Company tore into each other, but both sides stood their ground. The Ogre, thinking of his double share and how he would lose it if he fled, decided that he ought to stay after all. He turned around and was soon off to join the Handgunners in the fen were he felt he might be able to sit out the rest of the battle in safety!

The Estalians, suddenly terrified they might be shot at, decided to try their luck against the dwarfen Thunderers. They ran in, taking casualties in the counter-fire, and then conducted themselves as Conrad had seen on many occasions before – they broke and fled. But the left flank was still looking good for the Marienburgers as their Free Company Slew the Dragon Slayer and his last Slayer. In the centre, the Pike got caught up in a bloody, drawn out brawl with the Hammerers while the Halberdiers broke the Dwarfen warriors almost immediately, ran them down and crashed into the Quarrellers behind.

Then, and Conrad cursed for he should have seen it coming, the surviving Quarellers on the left flank of the dwarfs charged into the side of his Pike.

Merxhelm11.jpg


Moments before, on the Marienburgers’ left, the Thunderers fired into the Duellists who were trying to order themselves after the fight against the Slayers. The sudden loss of four comrades struck them hard, and they ran. Realising moment’s later that there was safety in the village, they turned to follow the Estalians in flight down the little lane to the east.

Merxhelm10.jpg


The Free Company tried to reach the same Thunderers before they suffered a similar fate, but their charge failed. Dreading the thought of the Bolt Thrower to their immediate right ripping them in two, they found spirit enough to cheer as a cannon ball bounced up and into the machine, creating a veritable cloud of splinters!

They now stood, bemused (and tired) and wondered it they'd done enough to satisfy their commander.

Merxhelm12.jpg


By now the dwarfs knew the game was up. Even though Conrad himself was wounded, the Pike had held their own against the Hammerers and although they almost broke twice, Conrad’s bravery was just enough to keep them battling.

It was growing dark, and the battle was clearly won. The surviving dwarfs fled the field, Conrad happy to let them fall back unmolested. Victor he might be, but his men were not fit to push on and prolong this fight. And besides, he could hear the thunderous sound of artillery to the south firing at and from the great castle. His men were not ready to join the fray there, yet, at least not now immediately after a battle.

Conrad ordered his army to return to the city. There he would repair and recruit. He needed more soldiers.

SOLID VICTORY for the Marienburg Alliance, in the Westen Kasteel area.

May the gods save Emperor Philip! May Marienburg prosper!
 

The Fat Git

Member
Brilliant! More like a movie, with the unloading of the troops in the docks, I'm surprised you don't have love interests in your batreps, you seem to have everything else :lol: .. If you ever did do a blog regularly I'd follow it! :grin:
 

Padre

Member
What I have done over the last 6 years or so has been rather like blogging, just scattered over different internet forums.

Maybe I should start one for this 'gathering together of my stuff' exercise? Or maybe I can just carry in here where I know there are some interested parties?
 

The Fat Git

Member
Padre":ftjg4axm said:
What I have done over the last 6 years or so has been rather like blogging, just scattered over different internet forums.

Maybe I should start one for this 'gathering together of my stuff' exercise? Or maybe I can just carry in here where I know there are some interested parties?

I think there are many many people out there who would love your batreps, that don't necessarily frequent the forums you use. I only found out about them on WFB reporter forum. Whether you do or do not put them all together I am thankful you put them up on here. :)
 

Padre

Member
Thanks for the encouragement, git and vole. Cheers me up considerable. In my happy state I'll post another installment on this evening, even though I was gonna do posts once per day. Why not? Oh, and my comment about Conrad Gelburtz above was made before I remembered that the other tales about him are (by necessity) set before this one.
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The Battle of the Fens

Conrad had been busy in the city. He had bolstered the strength of the army of House Van De Kuypers by a quarter (now 2500 pts). While Bertrand Le Burreur lay a-bed having his wounds tended, Conrad hired an engineer to improve his cannons. They had done so well in the previous battle, he was fascinated to discover what they might do with an expert commanding them. Happy also that Alvise’s Pike regiment had stood their ground with him at the battle of Melik, Conrad thought to hire more pike, and took Cosimo’s Tilean Pike regiment, another 28 men, into his employ.

But there was to be more aid for his force. Thankful for his efforts (but wishing he had seen things through a little better) the Order of the Knights of Manaan sent a company of 6 knights for him to command - and perhaps to spur him on a little? At last Conrad would have some horse soldiers in his army, an element entirely lacking from the force that had disembarked from the fleet and that he had taken to the field with at Melik.

Marching from the city once more, Conrad would face his foe in the fenlands beyond the walls. Very soon his scouts returned to tell him exactly who was ahead– an Empire army of strength equal to his force, crammed with state soldiers and well provided with artillery and knights. This battle would surely prove much harder than his tangle with the mercenary dwarfs.

The field of battle:

FenBattleTerrain.jpg


Conrad ordered his army to deploy immediately.

FenBattleConradCommand.jpg


His handgunners would now try to cover the entire right flank, aided by his two cannons. Surely they were enough to keep any force that approached that way at bay? The two pike regiments he kept together, with the Free Company and Averland Halberdiers guarding their right and left flanks. His knights and Ironguts he ordered to move up on the left, ready to punch through the enemy and sweep around the back of them. His skirmishers he instructed to prepare to plug any gaps and support the main regiments as they saw fit.

FenBattleDeployment.jpg


The enemy had brought Bretonnian Knights with them (as well as their vassal Peasant Bowmen), two regiments of Empire Knights, two Cannons, a Mortar, large regiments of Swordsmen and Halberdiers, with Handgunner and Swordsmen detachments. They had Pistoliers and Dogs of War Light Cavalry that could out manoeuvre anything Conrad had. And amongst them were some Dwarfs – refugees from the army that Conrad had defeated at Melik, returned with the Empire General in order to exact revenge.

Conrad’s left flank:

FenBattleMarienLeft.jpg


And his right flank:

FenBattleMarienRight.jpg


The Empire army’s right flank:

FenBattleEmpireRight.jpg


The armies now both advanced upon each other, drums beating, flags waving, and battle cries galore. The Ogres, however, took a dislike to Conrad’s plan, and chose to linger a moment. In fact Conrad’s left flank all hesitated and failed to advance as fast as they might. But in the centre, where Conrad himself commanded, they marched on.

FenBattle2.jpg


A bizarre sight near the Empire’s centre was a company of knights positioning themselves to shield their artillery! Who would have thought that such costly soldiers would be employed in such a role!

FenBattle2a.jpg


But when Conrad’s handgunners opened up, they took two of the foolish nobility down and the rest broke and fled in fright. They took the crew of the mortar with them, who were no doubt troubled to see their steel-clad betters fleeing the field! This was no bad start for the Marienburgers.

Meanwhile, however, Conrad realised his army would struggle on the left flank, for the enemy had put much of their strength in horse there. He knew that he must order the halberdiers to watch that side. But even as Conrad shouted his orders, the enemy (obviously better rehearsed in their drill and battlefield tactics) had put into motion a plan to trap the brave knights of Marienburg. Their Dogs of War light horse charged headlong into the Knights while the Bretonnians and Empire Knights shuffled into position ready to pounce when the Marienburgers broke through!

FenBattle1.jpg


The Red Company (halberdiers) desperately rushed to block the gap where the enemy horse might break through to hit the pike in the flank, while detachments and ogres and duellists all began to move to lend their support too. The Empire Pistoliers thought to shoot their way through, but even with all their bullets could only fell one Estalian!

FenBattle3a.jpg


On the Empire’s left flank, their two regiments of bowmen advanced to attempt to occupy the hill, though they would soon find themselves harried by Conrad’s two regiments of Handgunners. The Empire's Cannons began to play upon the Halberdiers and Pikemen, while the fight between the Marienburger’s noble knights and the Dogs of War Horse went on. In an echo of the previous engagment, when Conrad’s artillery fired a second time, they destroyed one of the enemy’s cannons, and a loud cheer was heard. Spirits were lifting – they could win!

While the army of House Van Der Kuypers cheered, the cannonless crew ran towards the other engines of war to find themselves a purpose in the battle!

FenBattle4.jpg


On the Marienburgers' left the knights forced the Light Horse to flee, and crucially managed to hold themselves back from pursuing. They had recognised the trap that lay for them ahead. The Empire Pistoliers suddenly came thundering down the hill, deciding that if they couldn’t shift the Estalians with lead, they would use steel instead.

FenBattle3.jpg


Smashing through, which came as no surprise to anyone, the Pistoliers’ momentum carried them onto the knights. There they found ‘slightly’ more resistance!

FenBattle5.jpg


In the centre the Pike regiments now decided to get stuck in. Charging the Handgunner detachment ahead of them, they came in so fast that the enemy could not load and fire quick enough. The cloth clad soldiers failed to slow down the Pike one jot, so that both regiments bashed through and smashed into the enemy’s main regiments of foot soldiers. The Free Company also kept pace and charged into the detachment of swordsmen attempting to protect the Empire Halberdiers’ flank.

FenBattle6.jpg


What they didn’t know was that two Warrior Priests stood at the front of both the Empire Swordsmen and Halberdiers, and that both regiments were enspelled by magic to make them unbreakable. Of course the detachment wasn’t so protected by magic, and the Free Company broke them and pursued - but not far enough! They now found themselves sitting right in front of the (now rallied) Empire Knights.

FenBattle7.jpg


On the Empire left, the two regiments of Archers, receiving lead-shot all the way, managed finally to occupy the hill. [Though the peasant’s standard bearer found himself performing a very odd job!!]

FenBattle8.jpg


Conrad’s Ogres suddenly decided to join the battle and crashed into the flank of the Pistoliers. What with Ogres in their side and Knights of the Inner Circle to their front, the Pistoliers were soon broken, and fled off the field. The Ogres attempted to pursue them but ground to a halt on the extreme left of the Marienburg force.

The Tilean Pikemen in the centre of the field, however, were doing appallingly. Even with about 35 attacks, they just couldn’t win the combat against the Swordsmen and the Halberdiers. And when they did lose, both broke and fled, with Cosimo’s entire regiment dying there and then. Alvise’s boys, with General Conrad Gelburtz himself amongst them, just managed to escape a similar fate and bravely rallied, reformed and turned to face their foe again. Meanwhile the duellists raced as best they could to attempt to support the general and his unit.

FenBattle10.jpg


From here events were to turn very sour for the Marienburgers. There were some successes on the left flank – the Ogres managed to destroy the enemy’s knights and even kill the Empire General. The halberdiers stood successfully against the Bretonnian knights, broke them, then charged them again to drive them right off the field. But in the centre old Gisbech the Wizard (with the Free Company, stupidly fighting in their front rank) perished, and the Free Company he had been with were broken then ridden down. Conrad’s regiment charged the swords again, and although he himself killed a priest in a challenge, the Pikemen simply could not harm their foe. The Swordsmen once more won the combat, broke the pike again, and chased them now for the last time.

The pike could not flee fast enough, and were all cut down. In amongst them, his body trampled under foot, layConrad Gelburtz himself! The enemy didn’t even noticed as they ran over him and smashed into the duellists. Of course the skirmishers had not chance at all, and soon were running too, only to be hacked apart as they tried to escape.

FenBattle12.jpg


Both armies were shattered, scattered, confused. Both had no commander. Neither had the strength or the will to fight on. And as darkness fell, they fell back from each other, dragging some of the wounded with them, but leaving many to die that night of their wounds, screaming, half submerged in the stinking fen.

Result: Draw (167 points difference, favouring Empire, in a 2,500 point game. (Faction lists used for both armies, I think)
 

Padre

Member
The Master of House Van Der Kuypers delivers the following speech in the Hall of the Directorate:

We can win this war. We can defend our mighty city against all foes.

Our allies are many, including the brave League of Free Traders, who see plainly that Free Trade must be allowed, otherwise none will prosper and all will fall under the dark rule of foolish and witless men. These ignorant masses, they think to take our wealth from us – let them try!

We people of Marienburg are sailors, and sailors are proven the best of all men. Only sailors are master of three trades – Navigation, Trading, and Fighting. No other profession can claim this. Our armies and our fleets are made up of the best of men. How can we lose?

Prosperity comes from trading and piracy, as all educated and worthy merchants know. We are masters of prosperity. Even the Greenskins who have joined us to fight the foe can see this. These Orc warlords upon their mighty Waagh know that to prosper we must be allowed to trade and rob and plunder.

Yet I have heard that our enemies think we have done wrong to ally with fighting Orcs. To them I say this:

Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt
Moliri, et late fines custode tueri.

If they an answer that, if they can find argument that makes such ancient wisdom untrue, then perhaps our people will listen.

But in the meantime, we will kill all those who think to take what is ours.


............................................................................................

The following picture shows the moment the secretary of House Van Der Kuypers read the now famous speech of defiance made by his master in the Hall of the Directorate.

You should be able to make out the Secretary himself (in green) and his servant gnome holding the book for him. Behind the dias are several ensigns from the forces in and around the city. Sharing the stage with the speaker are a number of captains, orc and human, as well as a magistrate of the City court. The Orcen General has just barked out his agreement with the secretary's words, pointing at him and growling "Manling speaks true. We kill all enemies. We am de best!"

To the right of the stage (as you view it) stand several ladies and an Arabian emissary, to the left a little band of goblin commanders. The foreground contains a crowd of citizens, sailors, soldiers and militia. Right behind the stage, sitting at the front of the Guild Hall, is a statue of Manaan in his aspect as god of the eastern seas.

MarienburgSpeech.jpg


They all cheered at the end of the defiant speech. Spirits have been lifted in Marienburg.

…………………………...............................................................
A Gift

House van de Kuypers wishes that it be known that the great and noble Infanta of Magritta has shown her continued support for Marienburg in our time of troubles by giving command of a company of Estalian Handgunners to Bertrand le Bourreur, acting Captain General of the aformentioned House. These are to bolster the House's militia force for the impending defence of the city's walls.

Here she can be seen in the fashionable dress of the Magrittan court presenting the handgunners for review by the Captain General himself. She is flanked by her Champion, the undefeated Don Pedro de Merida, in his full armour (it is rumoured he sleeps in it), and her mysterious warrior chaparone Senorita Pilar (who never leaves the princess's side).

MarienburgEstalianHandgunners.jpg


May Marienburg Prosper! The gods protect the Infanta!

Let this news end all rumours that Bertrand le Bourreur lies ill a-bed. He is fully recovered, praise Manaan and Myrmidia, and fit and ready to command the House Militia.

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Our New Allies

Gossip from The Pelican’s Perch Inn, Suiddock

I’ve just been outside the Gisoreux Road Gate. You should see it, or maybe not? Perhaps it’s best you don’t go? Some of our new allies are camped out there. I mean, I’d heard that we had greenskin allies, we've all heard that, but I thought … well, I thought they would be like the galley slaves or the pit fighters. But that’s not what’s out there. Not at all. Yes, I’d heard that there were armies of them – but I thought it was just gossip, like rumours turned into tall tales by a game of Cathayan whispers.

But now I’ve seen it with my own eyes. There are thousands of them out there, in huge sprawling camps. And they’re armed to the teeth. I walked amongst them, and they … they grinned at me! I thought they were sneering, snarling, growling. But they were smiling, laughing, shouting. I think.

I saw this bunch of goblins standing around a spit with what looked like a roast dog on it. The smell was weird - I could smell the fleshmeat but I could smell the goblins too. I was wretching while my mouth watered. I had to stop myself from laughing nervously, because they were wearing oversized armour, helmets lolling to one side and such. Then I realised they were probably taken from men they’ve killed. That sure stopped any urge to laugh. They looked at me, but stared right through me. Thank Manaan they were more interested in their food.

MarienburgOrcsGoblinsFire.jpg


I tell you straight, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen out there. It's like some nightmare. I had to jump aside as umpteen huge chariots – I’m not joking, they have chariots out there! – and boar riders came thundering by. Like it was the most natural thing in the world for a party of orcs to take a ride around the city!

MarienburgOrcsChariots.jpg


Then I heard this crack, like a pistol, and insane giggling. So I ran up a mound and took a look in the direction the sound came from, and there were goblins there with handguns! I mean goblins, and they looked like they knew how to use the guns. They’d just shot a gull, for food not sport I think. No word of a lie: goblins, crazy, insane, giggling goblins. With handguns! I got away from them fast.

MarienburgOrcsGoblinsHandguns.jpg


So I run over the way a bit to those old ruins to the north of the road, tents and huts all over the place, and I climb up onto that wall where Old Eckel was found ten years ago. From there I got a good view of the place. Vicious dogs were roaming around in packs, skulking between the greenskins tents and huts. You should see how they build, if you can call it building. Their huts look like something a gang of street urchins have thrown together to make a den! I could see orcs, regiments of them, marching around in the distance, more boar riders arrayed in a line on top of a hill. But then a figure emerged from a hut up ahead, a huge fat orc decorated with all sorts of barbaric baubles, and pierced all over – and you know could feel the magic coming from him. The air rippled, I tell you. He was some sort of shaman, powerful, mean.

MarienburgOrcsCamp.jpg


I ducked so he couldn’t see me and took a look out towards the edge of the camp. Now I don’t want to worry you, but they're not here for their holidays. They’ve got palisades put up – proper defences. They’ve made bastions for their war engines, and they’ve got goblins at every machine, like they’re ready for anything. It’s not just a camp out there, all higgledy-piggledy, it's more like a fort.

MarienburgOrcsMachines.jpg


So I’m starting to think I ought to get back, but I can see a part where orcs are camped now. So I creeps behind this huge pile of wood and takes a closer look. And hey, if the goblins looked comical around their fire, there’s nothing funny about the orcs. There was this bunch, important looking, with standard bearers following them around, all stood about a cauldron. It was like the goblins but bigger, meaner. I was shaking - I've never been so close to fighting, free orcs. I know they've been seen in the city, disembarking from ships and such, but I'd never seen them myself. I have now!

MarienburgOrcsFire.jpg


Then there was this drumming, getting closer, with lots of shouting, growling and screeching too. And stamping of feet, and by the gods I tell no lie, a regiment of orcs marches right past me – singing! Manaan only knows what they where singing, but it sounded like a fighting song to me. Maybe that’s the only kind they know?

MarienburgOrcsRegiment.jpg


By now I’d had enough, I didn’t want to stay around there when it started getting dark. So I left and came back through the gate. One of the guards winked at me, as if to say: “That’s not what you thought you’d see now, is it?” But then he started shouting at these two tiny goblins who had followed me out of the camp, so I left him to it and came back here.

I need another ale. In fact, let’s all have one, before the orcs drink it all!

Drink, drink and be merry, for we are surrounded by brute orcs and no-one seems to care!

[Edited to correct muddled title - previous title, subtitle and intro' somehow all got muddled together!]
 

Orjetax

Member
Dang!

This is great. Imaginative, well written, concise. Very well photographed.

I can't wait to read more.
 

Padre

Member
Thank you, Orjetax. Once again, emboldened by your comments, I will quickly post another instalment ...

The Arabyans Arrive!

Great cheers and strange horns and drums heard in the city of Marienburg

It seems House van de Kuypers has come good in its promise to find aid for the defence of the city, beyond that which can be got from Tilea or Estalia. The great trading house has great influence over the Sultan of Amon himself, rumoured to be one of the richest princes in the Arabyan realms.

Now the van de Kuypers connections have paid off, for a fleet of dhows, baghlas and bhoums has arrived this very morning carrying an entire army from Amon. They caused fear at their appearance, for though Arabyans have been seen many a time in such a cosmopolitan city as ours, never have so many as this come, armed and armoured for war. The Sultan’s nephew, princely commander of this force, the Emir Sadrin al Marwan entered the city first. Being young, a keen sailor and a frequent past visitor to Marienburg, he was soon drinking outside his favourite Paleisbuurt tavern, with his travelling court around him and Bertrand le Bourreur who had rushed to greet this most welcome guest. From here the emir would watch his army parade through the palace district and listen to the cheers of the assembled populace.

MarienburgArabsCommand.jpg


First come his Southern Southlanders, warriors from a far off jungle land who are rumoured to be so fearsome in battle that Arabyan enemies of the Amon have fled at the sight of them. They carry beaten bronze shields and their war cry is a sound never before heard in Marienburg!

MarienburgArabsSouthlanders.jpg


Once the observers can draw their eyes away from the tribesmen, they get their first glimpse of the full strength of the Arabyan force. Some servants of House van de Kuypers had already rushed to put silken pendants upon the lantern poles (much to the confusion of the locals) so that the Arabyans would think that the city was joyous to see them. Behind the tribesmen rides the white bearded general, the field commander of this army, upon a white steed barded with iron scales for war. He is an old veteran of a hundred desert battles, and all can tell he will see nothing in this war that shall make him afraid. The army standard bearer rides by his side, the standard furled for some reason, with a human skull pierced through at the top.

MarienburgArabsProcessionFront.jpg


Then come what must be the Emir’s Palace Guard, a regiment of spearmen bedecked in expensively gilded and enamelled armour. They march with the precision of parade soldiers, with a sergeant by their side even more garishly dressed than them. The observers gasp when they realise these men, each and every one, is wearing a silken cloak!

MarienburgArabsPalaceSpear.jpg


Next in line are a company of Light Horse, armed with composite bows, their mounts (at 14 or 15 hands) looking more expensive than that of even the richest young pistolier. These Arabyans certainly breed fine horses. The gathered squires of the Order of Manaan mutter amongst themselves, and look on jealously.

Then comes a huge regiment of desert warriors armed with spears, followed closely by what appears to be two detachments. It seems the Sultan army is not backward in its drill and techniques. One detachment even has handguns, no doubt sold to the Sultan by van de Kuypers’ merchants, and now back here in the city to do us service. The other detachment have crossbows.

MarienburgArabsSpearDetach.jpg


Behind them marches a regiment of black clad swordsmen, with strange Arabic script written upon their black flag. The curved blades some of them carry (‘scimitars’ explains one young squire to another) look vicious, with more brutal curves than even our sailors’ cutlasses.

MarienburgArabsSword.jpg


Just as Captain Von Wallenstien arrives to greet the Emir, then next regiment comes into view. And even Von Wallenstein, as far from a youngling or stay at home as you can get, looks surprised. For it is a company of riders, mounted upon the most hideous, malformed horses any in Marienburg have ever seen. Great hunchbacked things with comical faces. Still, they march well in the parade and might give even a crazed Sigmarite something to think twice about!

MarienburgArabsCamels.jpg


Von Wallenstein, recently elected Commander of the city’s forces in place of the Count, bows as best he can to the young emir (though he has seen the lad drunk many a time before, he now has to accept that the fellow must be shown some respect!). Then the gasp, the loudest yet from the crowd, makes him forget his manners and turn away from the emir, his hand almost reaching for his sword. The Emir and Bertrand le Bourreur both laugh as Von Wallenstien stands dumbfounded by the sight of the huge beast being dragged along the street. A War Elephant! The stuff of legend.

Von Wallestien speaks, “How in the name of Manaan did they get that here?”

“Not easy, my friend, not easy at all,” answers the emir. “Do you have any gardens you want manuring? I could give you a good price for the stuff.”

MarienburgArabsElephant.jpg


At the very back, behind another small regiment of crossbowmen (the Sultan must have known we would have need of many upon our walls) comes the baggage. Supplies for the army, peppers and spices for the city, carried by a legion of slaves and more of the deformed horses. Perhaps, is it possible, this elicits the greatest cheer from the crowd, or is it just that it seems louder after the silence caused by the sight of the elephant?

MarienburgArabsSupplies.jpg


A grand parade indeed. Perhaps we should not fear for the future after all? What fools are the landlubber Sigmarites and Middenheimers to make war on us, when we have whole world of allies to help us, from the farthest reaches of the globe. And they have only their anger and fear and flagellation to drive them on!

MarienburgArabsProcessionAbove.jpg


(Note: My Arabyan army has since grown - new troops and just as important, new ranks added to the regiments. Such was necessary for tabletop viability as the new rules editions came out!)
 

Padre

Member
Might as well slap the next installment here so you can see the arabyans (kind of) in action.

Battle of the Eastern Swamps

Bertrand was glad to be out. His head had been spinning all day listen to the interminable bickering of the Committee of War members in the Merchants’ Assembly. He was no politician, and yet somehow he’d volunteered to be the Committee’s secretary! How that happened even he couldn’t say.

Then came the opportunity to lead his force to battle, and in his eagerness to get out of the Hall, again he found he had volunteered to do something that in retrospect, with a clear head, seemed mad. It was now his job to lead the army of House van de Kuypers, bolstered with part of the Emir’s newly arrived army, into the Eastern Swamps to fight the League of Free Traders.

Whether the League were fools, false friends, cowards, victims of fate, enemies or traitors he could not say (and he suspected that none of the Committee, though they claimed otherwise, knew). A vote had been taken and Bertrand voted for the attack. That was his undoing, that moment, because as the fellow who voiced the deciding vote the Committee then looked to him to see it through.

The decision, as far as Bertrand could make out, was to launch one attack to show the League, whatever their true intentions, that Marienburg cannot be bullied, even when caught up in a war! Von Wallenstien was furious (Bertrand couldn’t look him in the face) but others on the Committee seemed pleased with themselves. Bertand’s only hope now was to do well in the battle. To lose would add insult to injury.

So here he was leading his amalgamated army of Arabyans, Tileans, Estalians, Averlanders and Marienburger seamen into the swamp! Into a vast, soggy, stinking, flie-ridden bog, strewn with dead things and now soon contain more rotting corpses. And of course, he couldn’t even take true command of the force, for the emir ordered his general Jamal ad Duala to lead the force in battle. Bertrand was secretly glad: ‘Let the arab take the blame when we almost certainly fail in this gods-forsaken place’.

Where would the fight take place? Surely not in the swamp? No, of course not. There was a little hamlet up ahead, on a slightly raised area of ground, two very modest hills, and the general was leading the army towards it. An inn, a large house and a small temple by the looks of it.

And oh, there was irony to add to Bertrand’s misery – it was a temple to Sigmar. Great! The League and the Marienburgers were about to do battle over possession of a Sigmarite temple in a steaming swamp.

The field of battle:

SwampBattleTerrain.jpg


General Jamal divided the force into two wings, the left to consist of Marienburgers and northerner mercenaries, the right to consist of his arabs. The general obviously felt safer with his own troops near him – or was there some other motive? The Tilean Duellists however, wandered over to the far right, behind the Arabyan camels (Heavy Cavalry). Bertrand suddenly worried that perhaps the murderous Tileans were planning to assassinate the general – after all, Tileans were never truly to be trusted!

This was just part of Bertrand’s paranoia before the battle. Besides the enemy was now coming into view and that put all such distractions from Bertrand’s mind. He’d thought that there might be dwarfs amongst them, a folk he feared to have to face in battle. But no, this was a human force, of Empire troopers and Dogs of War. In fact there were some famous flags a-flying amongst the enemy lines. Braganza’s Besiegers! Ricco’s Republican Guard! (Was that why the Tilean Duellists had gone over to that flank – where they planning to turncoat and join their countrymen?)

Besides these, there were huge regiments of Pike and Halberds, two cannons, some Greatswords lurking in the trees – their presence revealed by the huge army banner they flew.

SwampBattleDeploy.jpg


Before Bertrand felt like he had got his bearings, the battle began. The allied artillery opened with s couple of deadly shots, slaying 4 halberdiers and 4 pikemen. But it was hard to tell that the huge bodies of men had been damaged. The handgunners near Bertrand occupied the house nearby – a good idea thought Bertrand. On the right the Arabyan general advanced with his camels, the Tileans moving behind. But the rest of his army, attempting to move into better firing positions, got tangled up, and his main foot regiments couldn’t back up their general. (Was this typical of mercenary half-heartedness in battle? Was this ‘confusion’ merely a chance to put off joining in battle?)

The enemy responded by advancing two detachments on their right towards the Marienburg cannon (trying to protect the halberdiers?). In the centre their handgunners occupied the hill (from were they would do considerable damage), while the light horse (pistoliers) galloped from the left towards the centre.

SwampBattle1.jpg


The enemy cannons and missile troops had little effect, though Bertrand and his free company backed off when Braganza’s bolts slew 4 of them. And their wizard brought the Arabyan general to a halt with a wall of fire. Ouch! (You’d think desert men and camels would be used to the heat?)

The Averland Red Guard Halberdiers (now veterans in this war) advanced over the hill with their detachment in support, while the Ogre Ironguts made a desperate dash towards the League’s handgunners on the other hill. Could they make it before being slaughtered by double ranked volley fire?

SwampBattle2.jpg


The enemy responded by charging their huge regiment of pike into the Halberdiers, whose detachment countercharged with precision.

Bertrand laughed when he saw this: “Do they honestly think pike can help them?” he thought. He’d become somewhat cynical about the effectiveness of mercenary pike! And his judgement proved sound. The Leagues’ pike couldn’t harm the Averlanders, (Note: even with 16 attacks) and as a result they broke and fled!

SwampBattle3.jpg


Meanwhile the Arabyan camels were taking casualties from the wall of fire, then when they finally dispelled it, took more casualties from a Fiery Blast. The wizard with the enemy general, the army standard bearer and the greatswords in the woods was proving very harmful to the ‘cause’. So Jamal’s hand was forced – if he stood he would die. If he backed off he would die. He charged, with only half his camel regiment left!

SwampBattle4.jpg


The Ogre Ironguts’ challenge was to prove too much for them. Having lost three warriors to handgun fire, they then lost the combat on the brow of the hill, another died and the last fled the field (a strange feeling of déjà vu suffusing him).

SwampBattle5.jpg


He would not rally – after all there was only him left – and he left the field choking back tears. (He didn’t want to human warriors to see him cry!) Of course, Jamal’s attempt was just as foolish as the Ogres – attacking a large regiment of greatswords, bolstered by three commanders, with only four camel riders and himself. He broke and fled too!

SwampBattle6.jpg


The enemy general, armed like a true sea faring pirate with a brace of pistols, killed another camel rider as they fled. Now, under quarter strength, the Arabyan general couldn’t rally either! The greatswords, happy with their position in the woods, had restrained their pursuit. The wizard with them, laughing maniacally, killed eight arab spearmen with another fire spell, and sent them running too!

The Marienburger handgunners finally mounted the hill and started to fire at the enemy handgunners, backed up by the Arabyan crossbowmen and handgunners to their right. Yet it would take two lots of firing by all three units to shift them!

SwampBattle7.jpg


Now the real battle was joined. The Averlanders had run down the enemy pike and destroyed them by charging them as they fled. The enemy’s light horse had also fled, right off the field! Now the halberdiers charged into their enemy equivalents. Bertrand’s free company and the Averland detachment joined in, to make one big combat between a brade of League companies and three Marienburg bodies. Mayhem!

SwampBattle8.jpg


Of course, outnumbered, ranks negated, attacked in the rear, the League’s position was weak. They broke and fled, cut down by their pursuers. But it did leave the Averlanders in a very unenviable position – right in front of a cannon! Grapeshot tore down half of them. They fled, losing the two captured enemy banners they had (only moments before) been so proud of.

SwampBattle9.jpg


The battle was drawing to a close. The arabs, who had suspiciously avoided the fight for the whole battle, except for their impetuous general who had to charge or die, started to fall back. The enemy would not reach them. The crossbows released one last hail of shot into the woods and slew a good half of the greatswords, including the wizard (in a lucky distribution of two shots roll!). The Black Guard swordsmen now chose to advance to the now abandoned hill where the handgunners had been, cheering and shouting as if they meant business.

SwampBattle10.jpg


Bertrand on the flank could hardly believe it. The enemy was withdrawing. It was a enough to claim they had won the day, though it did not feel much like victory.

A fly landed ion his nose. A fat, black, filthy swamp fly. Bertand swatted it and burst it and blood ran down his face.

A young wit beside him laughed: “You been bloodied in battle again, captain?”

Bertrand grinned, then wondered whether the inn still had any ale left in it.

Note: I would like to thank my good friend Ant for providing me with an enemy which fitted the bill perfectly. (And his good wife for cooking a proper Sunday dinner!) He has dwarfs too, so I didn’t know in advance what I was getting. I’d simply said the League was dwarfs and Empire and DoW and left him to come up with a 2,500 pointer. The army he came up with certainly looked terrifying with its huge regiments. This was a hard but extremely enjoyable battle. Of course, as usual, I thought I had lost until the points were reckoned up. Ever the pessimist it seems!

Also Ant, sorry about really messed failing to get good focused shots of your army. These truly were the only usable pictures, and some of these are fuzzy!
 

Padre

Member
Meanwhile, back in the city itself ...

Goods Received.
(A Tale of Salty Sea Dogs.)


“Aye, we have papers!” said the master. “Like I said it’s all legitimate. House van de Kuypers’ factor in Magritta hired our ship to bring this stuff here.”

Gobril looked at the huge man in front of him. To be honest, most men looked huge to the gnome, but this ship’s master had real presence. No doubt he was rarely questioned by his crew. “I should like, master, to see them.”

The captain pulled out several folded papers from a pocket. The gnome closed his book of lading and glanced over at the ship’s bosun before taking the proffered papers. The bosun was definitely nervous. Did he fear his master? Or the House’s half-ogre harbour guard, Fobrat? Or just being in Marienburg at this dangerous time? Or was it something else?

SeaStoryDock.jpg


The papers were fine, exactly as they should be. Gobril knew the factor’s hand, and had accepted shipments just like this before. Admittedly, that particular agent usually employed one of the House’s ships, or a certain little carrack from Magritta whose master was almost invariably inebriated on hot liquors but whose crew laughed it off and got on with things.

These fellows, however, Gobril had never met. And their ship, a caravel named the Swiftsail, had to his knowledge never been to Marienburg ever before. It must be the war, he thought. For a start, there was limited profit in lading such a small ship as this – but if it’s all that could be found, what with all the fighting, then needs must!

“I don’t like your accent!” said Gamwick, the House’s halfling cook, quite unexpectedly.

Gobril had not wanted the halfling here today, but he’d come to inspect the salted hams brought in yesterday and hanging in the dockside store-house. And Gobril had certainly not wanted Gamwick to bring his wife. Now the halfling was apparently trying to annoy this foreign captain!

“And why’s that, my little friend?” inquired the ship’s master.

“Sounds like Altdorf to me. Sounds like a landlubber Sigmarite.”

“Ah, now,” answered the master, “you’ve nothing to fear from me little one. I may talk funny but I don’t do funny business – if you see what I mean.” Looking back at Gobril, he declared, “Enough! The papers are good. We’re leaving this cargo, and you’re paying for our carriage. We’ll take most of the money in kind – we need powder to make it safely back to Magritta. And we need it quick, because we’re going in one hour. The bosun here will see to the unloading and take the money and powder. I shall take a drink while it is done.”

“Drink!” growled Fobrat suddenly, causing everyone but the ship’s master to flinch.

Laughing, the master stamped over to the nearest alehouse.



An hour later, the remainder of the cargo had been unladed and now sat upon the dock. It was such a rush that Gobril had only time to inspect the contents of the first three crates and one of the sacks. Fine linen damasks and Bretonnian salt. The master was back, and briefly examined the three large budge barrels of best powder. It was all a little caravel like his could take, but it was worth 70% of their pay. The rest had been paid in gold. All the necessary tickets had been written out, and the requisite marks applied by all the necessary parties.

Fobrat banged his huge mace on the ground, splintering some of the dock’s timbers in doing so. It got everyone’s attention. “We to look at all cargoes. See everything. This how it done.”

The master grinned. “Well, aye, you must. We have to go, however, or we shall be stuck here waiting for the next tide. Complain to your factor if he’s got anything wrong.”

The master was resting his left hand upon the pistol tucked in his belt. He winked at Gobril.

“Let’s not keep the man, Fobrat. He’s done good service I am sure, and besides if he crosses us he’ll never get business in this city again – and what ship’s master can afford such folly!”

The master and his bosun turned and stepped onto their ship. Gamswick was fiddling with one of the sacks, right at the bottom of the pile. Fobrat was quietly grunting, obviously disturbed. The ship’s crew use two oars to push off from the dock, and then several started rowing, while others hoisted the sail to catch the breeze. The wind favoured their exit from the harbour as well as the tide.

“Ho! Gobril, look here!” shouted Gamwick. “This isn’t salt.”

Gobril ran to see what the Halfling meant. Sand was pouring from the torn seam of the sack as Gamwick pulled it further open.

“Who that?” came the sudden booming voice of the half ogre.

SeaStoryWhosThat.jpg


The group turned to look out to the ship and saw immediately there was indeed someone on deck who had not shown himself earlier. The newcomer’s armour, covering his whole body apart from his head, gleamed in the sun. His shock of white hair and long, straggly beard competed with the shining armour for brightness.

“By the gods, that’s no sailor!” cried Gobril. “That’s a Sigmarite, for certain, one of them fighting priests, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” said Gamwick.

“Fobrat, does he have any marking upon his breastplate?” Gobril asked the half-ogre. The brute’s eyes had proven as nimble as a hawk’s in the past.

Everyone looked. While Fobrat scrutinised the armoured man, Gamwick piped up. “See that one at the back with the crossbow? He’s pointing that at you, Gobril, don’t you think? That just isn’t friendly at all!”

“Star with two tails,” Fobrat finally answered.

“Damn them! Manaan curse them, and us for being fools!” cried the gnome in anguish. “We gave them powder, and gold!”

“And they gave us sand,” said Gamwick, the note of mockery quite audible to Gobril, if not to Fobrat.

Within moments Fobrat was ringing the bell, and folk began rushing around hither and thither.

“Fire at them! No, wait, you’ll hit the other ships!” someone cried unhelpfully.

Gobril ducked through the manic crowd and ran to the alehouse the master had just been in. “Sigmarites,” he shouted, wheezing at the effort of the run. “Sigmarite robbers, in a boat, out there. Enemies, tricksters …”

Chairs and tables started to tumble and scrape, and it was all the gnome could do to leap out of the way as umpteen sailors, some perhaps a little worse for drink, bounded out of the place and hurtled towards the nearest boat, a tiny sloop moored only 30 yards from where the Swiftsail had been.

SeaStoryCmon.jpg


Veteran sailors all, they knew full well what was needed in such a pursuit – knowledge of the waters, good seamanship and well tended handguns. Like most Marienburg sailors they had all three, for the master of this particular little sloop kept a good store of handguns for just such situations as these. It just so happened this was a boat made for chasing.

Out ahead, the Sigmarite vessel was under full sail, but playing it safe and going out into the Manaansport Sea by the safest, most oft used and deepest route. The priest of Sigmar had moved abaft to peer back and watch the pursuers. All the men aboard were armed with pistols and cutlasses, and tried to give the impression that they meant to use them. What they didn’t understand was that the Marinburgers were not going to give them a chance.

SeaStoryLonelyShip2.jpg


The little sloop, a fast, light, clean boat, stiff in the water, sailing well on a bowline as it was much more weatherly than the caravel, seemed at first to be making in the wrong direction – but only to a landlubber’s eyes. She sailed close hauled to the wind and at speed, gaining distance, then tacked about and came at the enemy from windward, all the time making use of little known channels that only the best of Marienburg’s native pilots would dare to risk.

This manoeuvring got them close, but not too close. Just as they appeared to be heading straight for enemy’s stern quarter, as if to grapple her and board…

SeaStoryCaught.jpg


… the skilled crewman at the tiller suddenly changed tack and swung the sloop to leeward. At that moment, five handguns opened fire, each loaded with double shot and swan shot, and each aimed at a different enemy, for these fellows knew how not to waste shot by targeting whichever foe seemed to be in the same position as they were in the line of the ship. The foremost man shot the enemy standing in the eyes, the rearmost sailor sent his cloud of lead spinning at the priest now standing on the prey’s poop deck.

Five Sigmarites fell, leaving only three or four left. The little sloop now tacked once more and came swinging towards the Swiftsail’s bow, so close that the two vessels scraped noisily against each other. Now four pistols came into play, as the ships both lurched and juddered, felling two more Sigmarites.

It was enough. Within an hour, both vessels were safely back at the dock. Two minutes after that, the crew were back in their alehouse.

Gamswick gestured helpfully at the pile of corpses the Fobrat had dragged from the caravel. “Better note them in your book, Gobril, in the good’s received column!”
 

Padre

Member
Raiders

Warboss Gorescar the Perturbed thought long and hard. Well, long and hard for him, which is about the time it takes for a goblin to die if its leg is severed. Not long at all really.

He was thinking that he must do more than simply meet the enemy army in the field. That’s what they would be expecting, and yes, that’s what they would get. But he wanted to give them even more trouble than that. Think ‘tacticals’ as he put it eruditely to his current Big Bosses – clever like the humans, but nastier. That’s where these Mary Anne Burgers let themselves down. They did a lot of thinking, some fighting, then kept stopping to talk to the enemy, nattering away about treaties and agreements. Parlays they called it. Endless parlays. It was about time someone did some proper fighting!

Well, that’s what the Greenskins were here to do. And Gorescar meant to do better than all of them. Which is why he was doing all this thinking. He wanted the other Warbosses to know he fought three battles for every one of theirs, and played war tricks to boot.

He had already sent out his wolf riders to scout, but even warbosses whose heads had been bashed into new shapes did that. He’d got his cleverest goblins to fashion up a new kind of rock lobber, using clay pots filled with that black powder the sea orcs used in their iron guns, and wrapped with smouldering, oil spattered rags. The gobos had demonstrated for him, and he was impressed with the massive flash of fire and smoke the pot made when it smashed into the ground and shattered . Admittedly, he wasn’t so impressed when one of the pots exploded prematurely and destroyed the war machine, but the goblins had promised to build him one that was, “Bigger, better, with ‘bangier’ pots”. Gorescar decided to give them one more chance.

Now he had a new idea. He decided he would fight the next battle with his meanest lads, of which he had plenty. Which left him with his ‘arrer boys’ and the gobos spare. So he would send them on a raid, to see if they could steal some of the enemy’s supplies. The clever part was that they would march, banging drums and stuff, so that they might also confuse the enemy about where the orc armies where. They wouldn’t creep around like thieves, but make the noise of an army on the move. This way even if they couldn’t find anyone to rob then they would have at least made the enemy divide their strength or become distracted or expose a flank.

Clever!

Gorescar shouted to his standard bearer to follow him, and leapt onto the back of his pet wyvern, Spikey.

The standard bearer, Bollag, wasn’t worried about keeping up, even with a wyvern. You see, Spikey was a wyvern, no one denied that, but it wasn’t fully grown. It was to a full-grown wyvern what a goblin was to an orc. It was still impressive, moreso than even the angriest boar, but not exactly what usually came to mind when someone said the word ‘wyvern’.

It didn’t help either that Spikey’s wings had been so badly mangled at birth (when its mother tried to eat it) that a goblin slave had cut them off. Gorescar, who'd always been an imaginative orc, cut off the slave’s arms so he would know what it felt like. The lack of wings meant that Bollag could keep up, just.

MarienburgOrcRaid8.jpg


The three of them, Gorescar, Spikey and Bollag, bolted through the wilderness to find the arrer boyz camp. Once there, Gorescar wasted no time. While Spikey roared (well, squeeled) he yelled for all the gits to form up. They rushed to obey the Warboss’s command, especially the goblins, many of whom had a certain armless goblin friend who regularly encouraged them, by his presence alone, to reconsider any notions of tardiness or rebellion.

Soon the two regiments were standing in their ranks and files, standards and musicians to the fore, awaiting to hear what their Warboss had to say. Falch, best friend of the goblin boss Mugglehid, nudged said boss.

“Here we go, eh? This is it, int it? He’s gonna speak, int he. To us. An’ that means fighting, you bet. Which means dying … Mugglehid, you listening? … dying I said, and I’d say it again but three times would be unlucky. You marks my words. You gotta start thinkin’ ‘bout standin’ at the back more often. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again. Don’t feel shy, I’ll be there with ya mate!”

Meanwhile in the orcen regiment, the conversation was less lengthy. An old veteran, Hookey, jabbed his mate Crookstab in the ribs with the less sharp end of a crossbow bolt and said, “Gotcha!”

MarienburgOrcRaid1.jpg


“Listen up all of youz,” began Gorescar. “An’ listen well. I got orders fer all of ya! An’ all of ya are gonna obey. Get going, get out there…” (he helpfully pointed off towards the hills.) “… an’ find them humans in blues an’ whites. You find their wagons, you find their mules, you find their asses …” (giggles from the goblins) “… you find ‘em an’ take ‘em an’ bring ‘em back here. I want their stuff, you bring it to me. An’ ya can let ‘em know you’z there, let ‘em hear yer drums. You lads are an army now.”

The orcs obediently cheered, most of them enthusiastically. The goblins tried their best, but the attempt was somewhat ruined by an audible smattering of sobbing amongst them. Right at the back of the orcen regiment, Hookey prodded Crookstab a second time.

“What we cheerin’ for?”

“Dunno, couldn’t hear,” answered Crookstab. “Does it matter?”

“Naah! Just finkin’. Reckon I‘ll go get all me arrer’s from the hut. Reckon if we’re cheering then we’re off to a fight.”

Two hours later the column of bow armed warriors - all green, some large, some small – were picking their way through the very same hills that Gorescar had pointed at during his rousing speech. The orcs led the way, the goblins struggling to keep up in the rear.

MarienburgOrcRaid2.jpg


Falch and Mugglehid, leaders of the goblin regiment, made their own way alongside the marching regiment, keeping an eye out for trouble and what not (as they put it to their soldiers).

“I is not so sure we can stand at the back, y’know? What’ll the lads think?” asked Mugglehid.

Falch was quick to answer, “They’s be thinkin’ they wanna be there too!”

“See, that’s why I is boss and you is a useless git. They’d be thinkin’ that alright, and then they’d be doing it, and we’d all be goin’ backwards, and then the enemies won’t be getting stuck all over wiv our arrers, and then the enemies would be on us, at us, chopping us into little bits, and we’s all getting dead and me and you at the back is just dying a little bit later than the rest.”

MarienburgOrcRaid7.jpg


“’Av it your way then, Mugglehid, my friend,” yielded Falch as gracefully as he could. “We’s bein’ at the front again. But don’t you go getting all angry and mean wiv me if a bullet ball is killing yer!”


………………………………………………………

Lucius Waldmor, watch captain of Middenheim, stood at the threshold of his tent. He’d ordered the caravan to camp in the hills just off the Marienburg to Altdorf road.

MarienburgOrcRaid3.jpg


He’d set sentinels all around the camp, including on the slopes above it, but the cunning part was moving away from the road. The chances are the enemy would be looking to raid supply convoys moving along that road, not here in the hills to the south. He wished he could move through the hills too, not just camp in them, but the huge wagons simply could not make headway along the paths. No, for his journeying, it would have to be the highways and not the byways. At least his men could sleep that little more safely, however, due to his cunning.

To be honest Waldmor was less than happy with this particular command. In his opinion he had too few men. They were all regulars, professional soldiers, but a file of handgunners and a file of halberdiers was not what he considered sufficient to guard a caravan of this size and this close to the front. His sergeant, Clophart, a black haired fellow from the southern Empire with what must be Tilean or Estalian blood in him, agreed. The two of them had made a fine sport of complaining about it, though never within earshot of the men. Waldmor, initially suspicious of the southerner, was warming to the fellow. He still did not know why Clophart had come north, what he had escaped from, but the way in which the southerner sported an Estalian style of helmet and a Tilean cloak (even if blue and white) proved he did not feel he had to hide his origins. In the end, Waldmor decided Clophart was simply a professional soldier, happy to serve his adopted city loyally as long as he was paid.

As the sentinels tried their best to keep their eyes open after a days marching, the column of greenskins drew closer. They had slowed, for their scouts had come running back to report the camp’s presence. Mugglehid suggested that they form a line, so that anyone they met would face more ‘arrers’, and the orcen boss (a dopey old greenskin nicknamed ‘LoudFart’ by the goblins) had agreed.

Falch had volunteered to go ahead and get a better look, while the rest of the lads moved slowly up. After an hour of ‘Sshh!’, ‘Hush’ and ‘Wisht!’ Hookey and Crookstab were starting to get on the other orcs’ nerves, mainly because their guffaws and laughs in between the shushes were much louder than any noise the others were making. Then Flach came back.

“Hold it!” he announced cockily, “Hold up and listen up! They’re just through them trees, an’ if ya know what’s good fer yer, yer won’t be rushin’ in like daft gits.”

Loudfart, made suddenly nervous by the expectation, did exactly what he was famous for. “Ssshh!” came Hookey and Crookstab’s quick response.

Mugglehid, tryin’ not to laugh, and hoping by his words to distract LoudFart’s attention from the mass of goblins trying frantically to suppress laughter, spoke up, “How many, Falch?”

“Only a handful standing about, the rest is kippin’ in tents. But there’s four big wagons filled with stuff.”

“We’ll ‘av those for starters!” said Mugglehid. “Loud … erm, Boss Daggle, make the line longer. We’ll creep up, and give ‘em what for!”

Loudfart scratched his head, nodding his ascent and so not having to move his hand. “Do what he says,” he shouted in a whispery way. Then louder, “Do it now!”

The greenskins obliged and started to move forwards through the last of the trees.

MarienburgOrcRaid5.jpg


When they eventually emerged from the trees, their line had broken up a little bit, mostly on the goblins’ side, and that because Falch kept finding excuses to slow down. Mugglehid was getting annoyed, but for a goblin that wasn’t much different from his normal mood.

Out they came, arrows notched, and within moments starting raining death down upon the sentinels and the camp.

Some of the sentinels had half a dozen red and black fletched arrows in them before their bodies hit the ground. The greenskins were starting to enjoy themselves.

Lucius Waldmor, upon seeing the first of the arrows in the air, began to shout, “Alarm! Everyone get ….”

But his voice suddenly was cut off. Quite literally, in fact, as an arrow tore through his neck! Clophart, stood in shock for a moment, transfixed by the bloody sight of Waldmor tumbling forwards. Then an arrow clanged into helmet, slid off its curves and spun off into Waldmor’s tent.

He turned to see the long lines of Greenskins standing upon the hillsides, while the body of a sentinel half slid, half rolled down the slope before them.

“To hell with Middenheim” he muttered, before fleeing as fast as his legs could carry him away from the camp.

MarienburgOrcRaid4.jpg


Arrows fell like rain, and within what was only a few moments, there was not a man left standing in the camp. Hookey and Crookstab, old hands at everything to do with war, had known what would happen as soon as they spied the camp. There were far more bows than necessary for this job, which gave them all the excuse to slink off to the right of the greenskin line and make their own way down the hill.

As soon as they heard Boss Daggle’s shout of “Stop” the two of them rushed straight towards the camp. They were the first in, jogging together through two of the huge wagons.

MarienburgOrcRaid6.jpg


“Look at all this stuff!” yelled Hookey.

“Forget lookin’, mate,” said Crookstab. “Let’s get robbing!”

Before any other greenskins had made it into the camp, the two old orcs were already sitting on the highest-heaped wagon, pouring strong ale down their throats whilst gorging on two cured hams.

“Get lost!” shouted Hookey at the first goblins who approached, waving his crossbow with one hand. “This one’s ours. Find yer own!”
 

Padre

Member
A peek at the Merchant's Assembly 'Committee if War'

Here you can see Marienburg's 'finest' arguing over the map. I am sure you other nations have interesting 'discussions' over tactics - ours are so much so it seems certain fellows like to point out things with their unsheathed swords! It really is not the fashionable way. I know they only want to adopt a military manner and appearance, but what about health and safety? Still I can't complain, Bertrand nearly took that fellow in the corner's nose off!

MarienburgCommitteeofWar.jpg


Bertrand le Bourreur is there in red - he seems to get in a lot of these reports. (Zelig?) It could be Lord Meingeld that we can see from behind, though if it is he's suddenly changed his entire wardrobe. The Duchess is there in her delightful dining gown - she's adopted the classical style in honour of Myrmida, the Tilean goddess of War. And what better style, my Lady, in such an age? Ah, the Lady has such style, such grace, Bertrand has trouble taking his eyes off her. (Maybe he really should stop swinging his sword around behind him?)

The other two fellows I'm not too sure about. They could be Von Wallenstein and/or Mogsam van Der Macht? Or merely some ship captains come to receive secret orders.
 

Padre

Member
Green Dusk
Battle Report

Lieutenant General Matthias Widmer, commander of the ‘Glorious’ Second Army of the City State of Middenheim, formed to supplement the standing army for this war and made up of old veterans and young recruits, was ready for battle. Not that he had commanded such a force before (in reality my opponent was a DE player trying the Empire out), but he was confident in his men. Soon the foolish Marienburgers would understand what idiocy it was to argue with the great power that is Middenheim.

His force was a good mixture of the standard elements, ready for anything (or so he thought): Large regiments of swordsmen and halberdiers, with detachments of missile and melee troops; two companies of knights, another of Pistoliers, as well as Huntsmen scouts, two cannons and two battle wizards.

OrcBattleMiddArmy.jpg


To show his loyalty to the City of the White Wolf, even the general’s crockery was decorated with suitable heraldry. (i.e. We used my special Middenheim plate for the snacks!)

OrcBattlePlate.jpg


Windmer was approaching the ruins of a hamlet. There were many such places to the east of Marienburg, what with the whole area having been fought over for weeks by Middenhiemer, Marienburger, League and Orcen forces. Every building, even the small temple, was burnt out and collapsed. Is this what Marienburg itself would look like at the conclusion of this grand conflict?

OrcBattleTerrain.jpg


The general, however, was in for a surprise. His scouts came running back to report an enemy force, and they were not what he expected. They were Greenskins, a veritable army, and they were deploying for battle. They had more than fifty goblin and orc archers and as many orcen warriors in two huge regiments. They had three war chariots, one carrying a brute of an orc. Two spear chuckers were already deployed, and two mobs of wolf riders and boar riders were manoeuvring into place.

OrcBattleDeployment.jpg


A cautious commander, Widmer had his Handgunner detachments move ahead of his main bodies of foot to act as missile screens. Less cautiously, however, he joined one of the two bodies of knights and ordered both front and centre, hoping that with one sudden blow they could swing the battle their way right from the start.

The orcs were led by Chief Gabbgit, a mean old Black Orc warrior who had not really intended to fight that day. In fact, in a way, he still didn’t intend to do so. He had got it into his head that this was merely an advance force of Middenheimers and that a bigger force lay behind. Thus he was determined to win this battle, if possible, without committing his two main regiments of orcs (one of which was Big ‘Uns). He would brush this particular enemy aside with riders and chariots and bows.

(NB: This is just about the ‘luckiest’ I’ve ever been in a game. Being a Marienburger I was playing the orcs, and nothing – and I do mean nothing - went wrong. All failed animosity tests apart from one simply moved me forward. This twice allowed bows to fire who had been previously out of range, and twice brought units into charge range who probably wouldn’t have been able to charge otherwise. Today it felt really good being Green!)

The battle opened with the wolfriders darting through a gap to attempt to silence one of the enemy cannons. Meanwhile the boar riders and a chariot took advantage of the cover provided by the ruins to move up on the same flank.

OrcBattle1.jpg


The rest of the army simply shifted back a bit. Chief Gabbgit wanted to see what would happen next before he committed anything else. The two main orc regiments stood side by side, ready to offer each other support if anything got through.

OrcBattle2.jpg


And something was coming. Throwing aside his usual caution, General Widmer personally led the two bodies of Middenheim’s finest forwards, while the pistoliers galloped behind their rear to attenpt to defend their flank. The bodies of foot, apparently, were forgotten about, and shuffled around nervously, watching their noble masters advancing ahead of them.

OrcBattle3.jpg


The huntsmen and handgunners tried to panic the wolf riders who were approaching to threaten the cannon, but felled only two. They were not going to stop. The cannons failed to dent the enemy (one misfiring). Gabbgit yelled at his orcen warriors to stand and not to move forwards, for he had noticed that the boar chariots might get a charge in on the advancing knights. His orcs were more frustrated at this than nervous, but followed their terrifying leader’s orders nevertheless.

OrcBattle4.jpg


Then suddenly the cannon crew were charged by the wolf riders while one chariot ploughed into the knights. Two knights died from the terrible impact alone (I rolled a 6, which was how things were going to be for me throughout this battle), and although the knights won the combat, the chariot stood its ground.

OrcBattle5.jpg


The wolves slew enough of the cannon crew to break them, including the wizard with them. When the crew fled, the wolfriders cut them all down and slammed into the Handgunner detachment behind. Gabbgit, to be honest, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

OrcBattle6.jpg


The Middenheimers started to move to try to counter the greenskin threats: the wizard attempted the beast cowers to slow down the hateful chariots, the Huntsmen, still cowering amongst the ruins attempted to shoot the Boar riders, while the surviving cannon killed one orc arrer boy! Things were not going well. The knights did send the chariot fleeing, but they couldn’t catch it in pursuit. Now a second chariot smashed into the same poor body of knights. This chariot would prove better than the first, locking the surviving knights in a drawn out struggle for several subsequent turns.

On the Greenskin right flank, the boar riders now began to emerge from the ruins ready to charge whoever they could in the flank. Trundling behind came a boar chariot, fully intending to support whatever the orcs before them did.

OrcBattle7.jpg


The wolf-riders easily dispatched the handgunners, and now found themselves in combat with the Swordsmen, thus now contacting the kind of enemy they hadn’t a chance of defeating. In the centre, the Middenheim General, terrified of falling victim like the other knights to a devastating chariot charge, launched his own charge at the fleeing chariot.

OrcBattle8.jpg


They couldn’t reach it, however, and found themselves somewhat exposed right in front of the two huge regiments of orcen foot!

OrcBattle10.jpg


Meanwhile, the wolf riders had broken and fled (no surprise) but the Swordsmen couldn’t reach them to destroy them and found themselves facing a charge from the Board riders off to their side. It was all they could do to turn and face the enemy so as to not receive the blow in their own flank.

OrcBattle9.jpg


When the Empire wizard then miscast the worst that could happen was to occur. Instead of his own spell harming the enemy, a greenskin spell was brought into being, the Foot of Gork, slaying one of the General’s own knights. The Pistoliers charged the goblins fully expecting to send them running, but the weight of numbers was against the young gentlemen, and the goblins stood their ground.

Now even Gabbgit knew he must use his orcs, what with the knights and the enemy general faltering in front of him, but when he charged, General Wildmer fled! It seemed that fate was going to force Gabbgit to stick to his original intention of keeping his orc warriors out of the fight!

OrcBattle11.jpg


The orcen arrer boys now slaughtered the handgunner detachment trying to shield the advancing halberdiers, while the spear chucker crews couldn’t work out what to shoot at. General Wildmer, now that he was out of harm’s reach, rallied his knights (what few remained), and turned around d t see that the goblins and the chariot were still holding their ground against the pistoliers and the other knights. How could he salvage victory from this debacle?

Then, hearing strange squeals and battle cries, he glanced to his left. The Boar Riders had finally plunged into the swordsmen. The brave soldiers stood their ground, though they were badly mauled.

OrcBattle12.jpg


Their defiant spirit was not to last as the last chariot now came around and hurtled into their flank. His sent them fleeing, and all were hacked down, trodden underfoot or tossed into the air by the vicious boars’ tusks. Astoundingly the goblin archers fought on against the pistoliers, both side slowly being whittled down but neither yielding to the foe. (Even though I forgot their rank bonus until they no longer had one!)

OrcBattle13.jpg


Desperate to retain his reputation, General Wildmer now led one last defiant advance towards the enemy. As he arrived, he realised he was about to be charged by fifty orcs and a chariot, at the same time.

OrcBattle14.jpg


Choosing flight once again, it was his last choice. The chariot tore him and his last knights down.

Off to the very left of the orc’s lines, the boars now ran into the cannon, slaughtering the crew. And although the Halberdiers finally got to grips with the arrer boyz, chasing tem off the field, the reformed only to see the battle already lost and nothing they could do.

OrcBattle15.jpg


The huntsmen, who had lurked amongst the ruins throughout the whole battle, now slinked away from the field.

OrcBattle16.jpg


And as darkness fell on this late summer’s evening, the last surviving two pistoliers finally lost heart and fled, galloping off the field as fast as they had come on, although now they were utterly alone!

OrcBattle17.jpg


Gabbgit couldn’t believe it. He’d won, he’d massacred the foe, and not one orcen warrior had even had to raise their choppa! With a loud cry, he commanded his whole army to ready themselves for the march.

“Now,” he thought, “let’s go and find a proper army to fight!”
 

Orjetax

Member
Well sir. Best bat reps I've ever read. And that's coming from a 40k partisan.
I have just enjoyed reading these very much and check back frequently to see if you've updated.
Hope you have a lot more to show us.

Good God man, you even have a themed snack platter.

Really well done.
 

Padre

Member
Thanks Orjetax for your comment. It has right cheered me up!

This thread is only the first internet Campaign (2008) I was involved in. Probably also the simplest one. I have done MANY more since then, with ludicrous numbers of photo Bat Reps wound in. It is my intention to do a thread for each of them, approximately one post per day. It will take some time.

Now to do the last bit for the Crisis in Marienburg ...
 

Padre

Member
The following was a joke piece to reflect the fears of a certain allied player ...

Uryen's Dream

Uryens tried to get some sleep. He knew it would be fitful, what with the world of worries pressing upon him. The fact he tossed and turned for over an hour, hearing the words spoken by the mad woman in the council, did not bode well for his need for rest.

Then he finally fell asleep. Before long, he was dreaming.

He was walking down a street in the Palace District, and had just reached the central crossroads. He'd been here many times before, but this time something was wrong.

Nightmare.jpg


He couldn't put his finger on it, so instead he unsheathed his sword. He felt very alone - where was the crowd of Marienburg citizens that should throng such a place as this in the middle of the day? He looked up at the sky - it was noon. Bright, blue, clear, but not reassuring.

Nightmare1.jpg


Then he looked down again, for there was a noise which sent a shiver down his spine. Squeeling, hissing, growling, squeeking. And it came from all around! When he turned to look down the street, he couldn't believe his eyes. Spinning around on the spot to look every which way, his lack of belief only grew. They were upon all four streets!

Nightmare1b.jpg


A great mass of foul ratmen, all garbed for war, moving towards him, their evil intent writ plain (and permanent) upon their features. Chittering, sniggering, snarling.

Uryens felt his legs weaken, his grip upon his sword slip, as fear assaulted his entire frame.

They were everywhere, and they were coming for him!

Nightmare2.jpg


He screamed! And in that moment, woke up.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And this was the last piece from the campaign ...

Fighting in the Streets!

Bertrand le Bourrer, Captain General of House van de Kuypers, knew that it was all hands to the pump now. To defend the city every able bodied man would have to fight, and every weapon must be brought to bear upon the enemy. So, after asking permission of the House, he ordered that every piece of artillery, no matter how old, how big or how small, upon the ‘Vengeful’ (van de Kuypers’ badly damaged flagship) be removed. She was being repaired and prepared for the fight at sea, but her ordinance was needed now in the very streets of the city. He intended to 'borrow' it a while.

Bertrand sent the house’s Quartermaster General to look over the Vengeful. Here he is upon the fo’c’sle looking at a rotten and cannon blasted part of the gunwhale...

MarienburgEndCampaign2.jpg


Meanwhile the ship’s old captain, Balthazar Gruber, standing upon the poop deck, waxed lyrical of old battles to his first mate, and made a vow that the Vengeful would sail again to far distant lands – once this war was over.

MarienburgEndCampaign3.jpg


Before long the quay beside before the ship looked like an arsenal, for the great old warship carried demiculverins and murdering pieces, minions and falconets, and even two culverins! Somewhat short of ‘manpower’ the House had to resort to greenskin mercenaries – and here they can be seen standing guard behind old captain Gruber.

MarienburgEndCampaign1.jpg


(Notice off to the right, guarding the house’s precious fortified dock-side storehouses stand a little company of Nipponese warriors, rumoured to be the most skilful of all men with swords, able to match prowess and speed with a blade even with High Elves.)

Before the day was out the artillery pieces had been emplaced at every bridge to the Palace Quarter, and each and every one was loaded with deadly chain shot, double head and burrel. The Middenheimers were in for a surprise or two.

They came just after dusk, swarming through the streets, and heading for the bridges.

MarienburgEndCampaign5.jpg


Upon the small and ancient bridge on the eastern part of the island, next to the Gull and Trident, sat two of the Vengeful’s guns, behind a hastily constructed barrier of Kislevian logs.

MarienburgEndCampaign6.jpg


Oh yes, the Middenhiemers were in for a surprise! The Red Guard Halberdiers behind grinned and joked, for once the guns had unleashed a deadly cloud of iron, the crews had been commanded to fall back and let the halberdiers take their place. What a surprise it would be for the deafened, half blind survivors of the blast to find that as they stumbled across their mutilated, fallen comrades and emerged from the smoke the barricade would be now defended by mass ranks of sharp steel.

MarienburgEndCampaign4.jpg


May Marienburg prosper! The gods save Emperor Philip.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This piece was posted just before the campaign ended. As you can probably guess things were not going well for my faction. The city defences had been breached by several forces, and we were reduced to fighting in the streets over each little island ward (thus my last piece). We didn't win the campaign, though I can't recall our placing. One of the things I love about these campaigns is that they are 100% as enjoyable if your faction is losing rather than winning. This experience in 2008 set me off down a new path, which pleasantly resulted in a lot of 'campaign awards' and 'medals'. Right now I am doing this sort of thing myself, running my own campaign with my friends, with bat reps and fluff pieces, painting loads of new stuff.

Surprisingly the 'Crisis in Marienburg' forum still exists on the net (so many other campaign sites have vanished) and can (at the time of writing) be found at http://www.marienburgcampaign.com/forum/index.php
 

snyggejygge

Member
Great reports.

I love your painting style, while maybe not the best close-up I think they look great on the battlefield, like a comic or something.

I must ask, what edition do you play, the regiments seem large enough for 8:th edition. & if the latest edition, what armylist do you use for the Marienburgers?
 

The Fat Git

Member
Love these reports! At the same time I hate them as my painting schedule is getting out of whack! I'm currently painting my skaven but I'm going to start on my Dogs of War pay chest and an old citadel cart, for no other reason than to look good in a batrep! I'm also badly tempted to make a human mercenary force on the strength of this thread. :roll: Keep it up goddamit!
 
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