Along the main road of Middenland, in the cold, snow-covered wilderness, a supply convoy was resting in a camp.
Winters in Middenland were harshly cold, especially at night when the air itself felt frozen. The convoy, comprising several hundred people, was transporting supplies essential for the Bretonnian chivalric army.
The dense forest loomed ominously, its darkness swallowing all within sight. Thick snow coated the overgrown trees of the infamous Drakwald Forest. The terrifying reputation of this forest needed no elaboration. Apart from the combat-crazed worshippers of Ulric, most local Middenlanders wouldn't dare venture beyond the protective walls and fences of their villages after dark.
The convoy trudged slowly along the Middenland road. Most of the workers were civilian laborers tasked with escorting the goods, though a few Middenland soldiers were also present. They used oxen and horse-drawn carts to transport the supplies, including a fair number of sheep. The soldiers, holding torches, nervously scanned the surrounding darkness.
The forest ahead was pitch black, akin to tar, and the cries of wild beasts mingled with the biting wind and snow, unsettling the soldiers. The civilian laborers teased the Bretonnians, clearly noting that these foreigners from beyond the mountains were struggling with the harsh Middenland winter.
Deep within the Drakwald Forest, an entire warband of Beastmen, known as the Ironhorn Warband, was secretly watching the convoy. Upon seeing the oxen and sheep, the Beastlord Kash-Ironhorn drooled profusely.
Within the forest, over a thousand Beastmen gathered under the Beastlord's command, their low, guttural roars filling the air as they eagerly awaited his order. Their goal was clear: to charge out of the forest, slaughter the humans, feast on their livestock and flesh, drink their blood, and claim their skulls and helmets as offerings at the altar beneath the Warpstone Rock.
"Meat... fresh meat!"
"Humans... kill... eat... grow strong!"
Kash-Ironhorn raised his crude, gore-soaked blade crafted by Bestigors. The Beastlord signaled for patience. His warband was seething with bloodlust, hungry for both sustenance and the blessings of the Dark Gods. They believed themselves to be the agents of Chaos, the end of civilization, and the destroyers destined to annihilate the world.
This ambush site had been meticulously chosen. A few kilometers ahead lay a large fortress manned by Middenland forces. Any delay would risk encountering patrols.
Over the years, Middenland's efforts to eradicate the Beastmen had grown increasingly brutal and effective. Under Boris Todbringer and his "wolf pups," the region had established extensive fortifications, watchtowers, patrol routes, and roadside strongholds, systematically shrinking the Beastmen's territory. Bands of Ulrican zealots and the Wolves' Brotherhood often ventured deep into the forest, ruthlessly hunting down Beastmen tribes.
Unlike Chaos Warriors, Beastmen needed a consistent food supply. The limited resources of the Drakwald Forest prevented their population from growing unchecked. Winter, however, brought even greater hunger, and now, with the humans starved, the Beastmen were on the brink of desperation.
Kash-Ironhorn raised his hand high before slashing it downward with force.
The heavy, menacing sound of footsteps echoed through the dark forest.
The hunt had begun.
Leading the charge were several Bestigors, their massive, battered battle axes gleaming. The human convoy was caught off guard as the Beastmen suddenly emerged from the roadside forest, throwing the scene into chaos.
The slaughter commenced. The Bestigors barreled through the workers and escort soldiers, shoving aside shields and spears with brute force. The convoy's defenses crumbled. Some Middenland soldiers and workers attempted to resist, but they were swiftly overwhelmed.
A terrified worker shouted Ulric's name in vain. Kash-Ironhorn sneered, knocking aside the man's spear with his shoulder. Humans? Weaklings.
The worker fell to the ground as Kash's rusted greatsword tore him open. Blood sprayed into the air, and the iron tang of human flesh filled Kash's senses. He relished the moment, delivering multiple blows until the worker's mangled body no longer bled.
Behind the Beastlord, the warband surged forward, howling with bloodlust. Bestigors, Gor Herds, Centigors, Razorgors, and Chaos Warhounds attacked relentlessly. Ungors greedily began dragging off human corpses, livestock, and supplies to the forest.
The Beastlord growled for his warriors to focus on the fight rather than plundering, but only some obeyed. Meanwhile, the human convoy, under the leadership of a group of soldiers clad in ornate, dwarven-crafted half-plate armor and bearskin hats, rallied. They formed a defensive circle using their carts, positioning themselves against a nearby hill. Their calm and commanding demeanor instilled order among the panicking workers and guards.
Kash-Ironhorn had never seen soldiers like these. Instinct warned him that they were formidable foes. In Middenland, the greatest threat to the Beastmen was usually the White Wolf Knights of Middenheim. But who were these armored warriors with bearskin hats?
"Kill... annihilate... humans... Beastmen rule the forest!" Kash-Ironhorn bellowed, ordering several Bestigors to lead the charge.
"Long live the King!" The armored soldiers raised their firearms—not the crude, poorly-made muskets used by Middenlanders, but magical workshop-crafted weapons loaded with explosive rounds. When these rounds struck a Bestigor's tough hide, they lodged inside before detonating with fiery force.
Boom! Several explosions rang out, and the strongest Bestigors fell. The remaining Beastmen, struck by crossbow bolts and musket fire, followed suit. Kash-Ironhorn roared in fury and personally led the next assault.
The Beastlord's attempt to breach the defenses failed. The soldiers' tight formations of spears and shields thwarted every advance. Injured and bleeding from two arrows, Kash was forced to retreat.
The mist thickened along the Middenland road, reducing visibility to near zero.
Kash-Ironhorn pulled the arrows from his chest, infuriated by the humans' resilience. His warriors hesitated, intimidated by the humans' unwavering line of shields and spears.
Yet hunger gnawed at the Beastlord's resolve. The convoy's supplies—its livestock and the humans' own flesh—were too tempting. In December's bitter cold, desperation drove Kash-Ironhorn to bellow into the fog, his roar echoing through the dark forest.
He was summoning reinforcements.
Soon, the ominous sound of reinforcements rumbled from the forest. Beastmen warbands from nearby territories converged, driven by the same hunger and devotion to the Dark Gods. A braying Shaman entered the fray, carrying a skull-topped staff and chanting the will of the dark deities. Though forbidden to utter their names, his presence reinvigorated the Beastmen.
The Shaman began his incantations. Beastmen surrounded the human convoy, their glowing eyes resembling fireflies trapped in amber. Tension crackled in the air as the Beastmen prepared to strike.
However, before the Shaman could unleash his second spell, a luminous black arrow cut through the fog, striking his chest. Chaos energy evaporated in an instant, and the Shaman collapsed.
The Beastmen roared in outrage, but their cries were drowned out by the thunderous sound of hooves.
Knights emerged from the fog like a storm, their lances skewering hundreds of Beastmen in moments. The tables had turned, and the tide of battle shifted dramatically.
In the chaos, the Knights began to sing a rousing battle hymn about fried onions. To the Beastmen, it was incomprehensible and eerie.
The Beastmen, caught between the armored soldiers and the cavalry, broke ranks. The fog concealed the knights' reinforcements, but the cavalry continued to cut through Beastmen ranks like a scythe through wheat. Panic set in as even more human troops joined the fray.
Kash-Ironhorn's warband was crushed between hammer and anvil, suffering devastating losses. In desperation, the Beastlord led his remaining warriors in a final charge toward the forest, only to be intercepted by magical lightning that reduced many to ash.
A knight wielding a gleaming lance confronted Kash-Ironhorn. After a fierce duel, the Beastlord fell, his head severed and presented as a trophy to Duke Hagen, who declared, "In the Lady's name, the Beastlord is slain!"
The fog dissipated, revealing the full might of the Bretonnian army. King Ryan and the Enchantress Morgiana surveyed the battlefield strewn with Beastmen corpses.
The Battle of Udoine marked the first victory of this great expedition to aid the Empire. The Bretonnians tasted the first blood of their campaign.
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!]
[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]
[+100 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]