The Steelhead mercenary company rifleman wasted no time jumping from their stricken, beached ship onto the foreign, twilight shore. A number of the enemy were already within forty feet of their position, and as such the soldiers did not bother rising after landing, and from a kneeling position gunfire rippled from their line into the front ranks of the Cryxian formation.
A horde of about thirty mechanithralls served as the bulk of the Cryxian force set against them. Perverse fusions of engineering and necromancy, the creatures were driven forward without the characteristic slowness of other corporeal undead thanks to mechanically-augmented legs and, after closing with the enemy, the thralls could crush armor, bone, and even warjack plate with their massive, piston-driven steamfists.
Trooper Bailen scored a lucky hit on a critical valve in one of the thrall's steamfists, and the complex weapon burst from overpressure, annihilating much of the top half of the thrall it was attached to and maiming the thrall behind it with shrieking shrapnel. Drill and experience took over as Corporal Dorson, an exceptional marksman, put what would normally have been a textbook, killing shot through the rotten heart of the thrall closest to her, but the dead thing no longer had need of its vital organs and the heavy round merely staggered it before it resumed its charge. The force of the heavy military rifle round fired by Sergeant Wicks jerked a another Thrall's head back, the creature's momentum and the velocity of the round caused it to swing almost comically upside down for a moment before it landed in the sand, unmoving.
Trooper Raine's aim was off, and his round whizzed past the skull of a Thrall before splashing into a sand dune seventy feet behind the horde. Trooper Dorn also missed her mark, but the formation of thralls was so thick she took the leg off of another thrall by happenstance. The shock and blood loss from such a maiming could have killed a man in moments, but after landing face-first on the shore the thrall continued to pull itself slowly forward with just its hands. The dead thing hissed, but not in anger, nor even from its mouth; steam was rapidly venting from the stump of its augmented leg, a mechanical parody of a gushing, arterial wound.
More rounds smacked into the charging horde, but it would not be enough, only a handful were neutralized by the first volley, and at least three of the remaining mechanithralls would close with the mercenaries before they could load and fire their breach-loading rifles again. Their discipline held, however, and they smoothly began sliding new rounds into their weapons instead of reaching for the swords at their hips.
The trust they showed their comrades still aboard the ship was not misplaced. Allison Bridges, a muscular, red haired adventurer clad in an unpainted breastplate, chain mail, and an open-faced helmet, stood on the bow of the beached vessel and leveled a hefty, belt-fed firearm at closest mechanithralls.
The weapon, a mini-slugger, was originally intended by the Cygnaran Armory to be a general-purpose, platoon support weapon. Standard tactical doctrine for such weapon was to advance to a position with a wide field of fire and deploy the slugger's bipod before firing. However, like many who had served in the Trenchers, Allison was burly and obstinate enough to fire the weapon from the hip in a pinch. Allison stitched a hail of bright orange tracer fire through the charging thralls. One was blown apart at the hip, the next exploded in a cloud of steam as two rounds punched through its chest into the engine grafted onto its back. The last was hit by a pair round that took its whole head off, -clean off!-, and fell to the ground, lifeless.
At the same time one of Allison's companions, a wiry ranger in a dark green cloak by the name of Tobias Stark, leveled a finely-crafted carbine from atop the ship's crow's nest. Moments earlier, the party's Gun Mage had cast a Fire Beacon spell, which now illuminated the beach like a slow-falling magnesium flare. Stark spied Bane Thralls, dark red, shadowy creatures made of darkness and hate, following behind the mechanithralls. The Fire Beacon spell neutralized their obscuring magic, and under its light they appeared as bright red sillouetes in Tobias' scope. He began picking them apart with his rifle, knowing he was the only one who could target them cleanly at this range and trusting his companions to deal with closer foes.
He did not find his friends wanting. Samantha Forester, the Gun Mage, jumped down from the deck, clad in a dark green great coat and leveling a glowing, double-barreled Magelock Pistol at a Mechanithrall in the middle of the Horde. Committing serious sorcerous power to enhance the accuracy and destructive power of her next shot after already firing a Fire Beacon would be pushing the limits of her arcane reserves, but she needed to thin the ranks of the dead before they closed with the mercenaries still disembarking from the ship. A ring of glowing, blue runes materialized in front of the gun's barrel before Sam pulled the trigger.
Sam's shot tore apart her primary target and four other thralls nearby in a tempest of blue, arcane brilliance, but it wasn't enough. As the smoke cleared a bloated, rotting abomination known as a Bloat Thrall pushed its way through the greatly diminished horde. Recognizing the threat, Allison swung her mini-slugger around to target the creature, but before she could pull the trigger, the Thrall fired its own horrific weapon.
A potent alchemical acid was stored in the specially-modified guts of each Bloat Thrall, and their infamous Bile Cannons were designed to pump this acid directly from their innards to spray on unfortunate victims. Troopers Raine and Bailen dived out of the way just in time for the caustic fluid to splash the hull of the ship right behind where they had been standing. Trooper Gilligan was less fortunate. The acid could melt through a fortress wall given enough time, human flesh and infantry armor put up no resistance whatsoever. Gilligan screamed, but not for long, as he was reduced to a pile of organic fluid.
Allison cursed and squeezed the trigger on her mini-slugger, staggering and then slaying the Bloat Thrall with sustained fire. The riflemen were firing at will at this point, holding the charging tide of thralls back with defensive fire. In spite of their best efforts, one of the creatures broke through, and a glancing hit from its right steamfist broke several of Trooper Bailen's ribs and slammed him back against the hull of the beached ship, knocking him unconscious. Trooper Dorn was less lucky, the thing's left fist swung round and pulped her skull and brain with a savage squelching sound.
Before the nearest riflemen could draw their swords, the platoon's commanding officer, Lieutenant Ezekiel Roads, landed on the beach with the platoon's halberdiers. The lieutenant carried a mekanika cavalry axe with a shimmering runeplate in one hand, and a double-barreled hand cannon in the other. He fired one barrel of the oversized pistol at the thrall that had just killed one of his soldiers, blasting it backwards, and then bellowed a sharp command to his men, "Set halberds to charge…! Charge!"
With practiced precision, the remaining riflemen held their rifles vertical, close to their chests, and turned aside, just as the squad of halberdiers charged past them, moments before the Cryxians closed with their lines. Trooper Jamison pinned a Mechanithrall to the ground by the neck with the point of his halberd, but left himself open, and another Thrall put a piston-driven fist through his chest. Corporal Faraday performed an arcing swing over his head with his halberd, like a man driving in a railroad spike with a sledgehammer, and buried the head of his halberd clean through the offending Thrall's skull and neck to bisect its upper chest. He wrenched the weapon free in a spurt of rotting gore and the undead creature's broken form fell to the ground without so much as a twitch. Troopers Sooth and McKellen impaled and single thrall together in a coordinated strike and ripped it apart by tearing their halberds out in opposite directions. Sergeant Raynor used practice skill to impale a charging thrall on the point of her halberd and this hold it at length as its boiler poured steam into the exit wound and boiled its insides. Trooper Presley, a massive tower of corded muscle, bisected a thrall with a diagonal slash from its left shoulder to below its right hip. Seeing the five remaining thralls were well within rifle range, a bellowed command from Lieutenant Roads put the halberdiers on a knee while the riflemen fired in unison over their heads, cutting apart the remaining Mechanithralls.
It was no time to celebrate, however, as just beyond the forms of the slain Mechanithralls, the Bane Thralls Tobias and Sam had yet to dispatch advanced forward, their innate occultation making it impossible for the riflemen to target them cleanly at this range without the aid of magic. More ominous still, were the war machines on their left flank.
The first was easily recognizable for its low profile, glowing green arc node, and massive bony jaws: a Deathripper Bonejack. Next to it was a similarly-shaped Nightwretch Bonejack, though the latter had a formidable doomspitter cannon in place of the Deathripper's mandibles. Finally, with slightly more humanoid shapes and claws powerful enough to rip a dire troll in half, was a pair of Slayer Helljacks. The warjacks moved forward with the speed and purpose that suggested a controlling Warcaster, but if there was one they were doing a good job to hide themselves.
As the Banes and the Cryxian battlegroup advanced and exchanged fire with the mercenaries and adventurers, the ship's astern cargo ramp opened, and five Steelhead heavy cavalrymen galloped outwards to get a wide flanking angle on the advancing Cryxian column, and behind them came the adventurers' own warjacks and their controllers.
The first was a seven and a half ton Rover heavy warjack armed with a battle axe and shield cannon. The second was a state-of-the-art Lancer light warjack, weighing just over three tons, with a battle spear gripped in one hand and a shock shield bolted to the other. Its most formidable weapon, however, was arguably the blue arc node affixed to its chassis. Both of these 'jacks were mentally controlled by Nora Lastwall, a tall woman clad in cutting-edge Warcaster armor and wielding a massive, mekanikal greatsword. The last was another heavy, a Mule, with a long-hafted battle mace in its right hand and a massive steam lobber cannon replacing its entire left arm. This 'jack was being verbally commanded by an arcane mekanik and sorcerer by the name of Burne Smith.
This was a real Immorese battle now; augmented battlegroup against augmented battlegroup. Though it was taxing, Sam continued to periodically cast Fire Beacon spells for Tobias for the entire battle, and he used the arcane illumination to kill two more bane thralls with his carbine while the 'jacks and their handlers disembarked. Then, the Nightwretch advanced to fire its short-ranged doomspitter at the mercenary lines. Corporal Midwinter, directly hit, was annihilated, and Trooper Meadows was likewise killed from the blast. Sergeant Wicks was lacerated by shrapnel as well, but luckily his armor had saved him from lethal injury.
Allison returned fire with her massive mini-slugger and she was joined by Sergeant Wicks and the remaining riflemen. The storm of shots perforated Nightwretch's chassis and it began to hiss out necrotite-stained smoke and steam. Quickly losing internal pressure control, the bonejack fell inert.
The other bonejack moved up, its Arc Node shimmering with a sickly green radiance, confirming the presence of a controlling warcaster. Green and black fire leapt from the Arc Node and impacted the decking Allison was using for cover, burning through it and scorching her armor, superheating it and burning her. With a cry of pain, she ducked down toward better cover, clutching at her armor's straps in a desperate attempt to remove it. In response, Burne moved closer of the remaining bonejack and gathered his arcane power.
Would that the Stormsmiths of Cygnar could build a device to command the elements as well as Burne could with innate sorcery.
Sorcerous lightening leapt from his hand with a crashing peal of thunder. It struck the bonejack, causing only minor damage, but then the lightning leapt from it to strike four nearby Bane Thralls, destroying three of them and driving the fourth back, hissing. He then ordered his Mule to redirect steam pressure from its motive systems to its primary weapon. The steam lobber fired a massive explosive shell at the nearest Slayer, crippling one of its arms and finishing off the two remaining Bane Thralls in a ball of flame and scything shards of metal.
Undaunted, the crippled Slayer charged the line of halberdiers, its unseen warcaster augmenting its strength and ferocity. Sergeant Raynor and Trooper Fray were killed in the rampage and the remainder of the halberdiers were driven back, but they hardened their resolve when they saw the heavy cavalry maneuvering in for a rear charge. Drilled extensively to flank and charge a foe held in place by a line of halberdiers, the cavalrymen struck unerringly into the slayer's back while the halberdiers impaled it from the front. One good hit from Corporal Hallock to the Helljack's steam engine, combined with other serious damage from rest of the two squads, and the war machine lost viable internal pressure almost immediately after the cavalry charge crashed into it.
The remaining Helljack charged Burne's Mule, tearing at its chassis, bursting pipes, and completely tearing off its right arm. The Rover and the Lancer countercharged it from the sides, however, and battered the last Cryxian heavy to scrap with spear thrusts, axe blows, and a point-blank shot from a shield cannon.
After the battle, Lieutenant Roads wasted no time fetching his horse from the ship and riding out with the cavalry to scour the coast and nearby forest for the enemy Warcaster. Trooper Sooth, also the platoon's medic, tended to the wounded during the hour and a half the platoon waited for the scouting party to return. They returned empty handed, though they confirmed there was a human fishing town just up the coast. The Lieutenant had tried to warn them about the Cryxian warcaster on the loose but had been unable to because of a language barrier. The soldiers, privateer crew, and adventurers agreed that the townsfolk would likely be on alert anyway after six heavily armed, foreign cavalrymen rode through their town barking orders.
Nora left the Steelheads and privateers to guard the ship while she led her party and 'jacks up the coast to inspect the Cryxian vessel. Unsurprisingly, it had been as crippled by the storm as their own ship. The group agreed to let the wounded rest for the night before sending someone to the town and seeing about bartering passage home. They offloaded the tents, food, ammunition and the other supplies from the ship and dug a trench line inland a ways just in case it was currently low tide. The task complete, the Immorese mercenaries settled in for the night on an undiscovered, foreign shore.