The sun shined down upon the towering peaks of grey stone known to the men of the Empire as the World's Edge Mountain. For millennia it stood as a natural barrier for humanity from the barbarous hordes of greenskins which inhabited the badlands, of course though there existed placed where large groups could pass. Among these traversable areas was the famed Black Fire Pass, the land where some would say was the true birthplace of the Empire, the site which stood as the crucible where the Sons of Sigmar proved their right to exist.

Within the pass stood two great statues of white stone which maintained an eternal vigil, the first statue was a stout and proud figure which depicted the ancient king, Kurgan Ironbeard of the dwarfs. The dwarf king stood with his back to the mountain wall with axe raised in salute to the statue across him, the other of which depicted Sigmar Heldenhammer who reciprocated the dwarf's king's gesture with his hammer, Ghal-Maraz.

Surrounding the statue of Sigmar was a gathering of men, women and children. Each clasped the holy hammer icon around their necks or other symbols of their faith as a bald wild-eyed man in crimson robes and old but serviceable armour preached to them. The priest's bald head glistened with sweat as he held in his right hand, a massive leather-bound tome of prayers; a fanatical frenzy had consumed him as he addressed the crowd. Smoke wafted around the priest as two young boys with shaved heads and crimson robes swung censers which created a light mist of incense.

'And here it is!' shouted the crimson priest 'where more than two thousand and five hundred years ago, did our lord Sigmar of the Unberrogen lead our ancestors to victory against the savage hordes of the greenskins! Here did Ghal-Maraz split the skulls of the barbarians! To him we give thanks and praise!

'To our lord Sigmar!' replied the crowd in reverent tones 'Whose wisdom guides us through the darkness! Whose courage empowers us against the wicked! Whose strength protects us from ruin!'

'To Sigmar we give thanks and praise!' said the priest again 'And to the Mountain Folk of the dwarfs! Who gifted our lord with his holy hammer! Whose warriors spilt their noble blood so that our Empire would live! Whose smiths forged the symbols of might for our Electors! To the Mountain Folk we give thanks and praise!'

As the men and women recited a prayer in honor of the mountain folk, one of them an Ostermark born soldier named Brunner Holschwittz who was clad in armor typical amongst the state troops. He felt one of the children gently trying to get past him, he stepped to his right near an old man who did not seem to notice as Brunner brushed against him. Glancing down as he recited his prayer, he noted the child had auburn hair which was tied into a trio off braids, but most unusually he noted the child was wearing chainmail and had several weapons. Brunner missed a few lines as a sudden realization came that it was no child that passed him.

'And so my children!' shouted the priest once more 'We honour our lord Sigmar and his courageous friends! We honour the pact between we of the Empire and the mountain folk! We-' the priest grew slightly annoyed that a number of his flock began missing words, he noted how a number of them suddenly widened their eyes as they glanced down and their mouths stood agape, he resolved to make these sinners make penance for this. He then noted, making its way in front of the crowd was a short figure wearing a stone grey cloak, a suite of chainmail armour and an array of deadly looking ranged weapons. The short figure had fair skin with auburn hair and green eyes like malachites, he missed a beat in his prayer but immediately continued, his eyes widened in realization that there was now a dwarf standing in his midst.

The priest finished his prayers, he looked to face the crowd but his eyes were still upon the dwarf. He called for the crowd to make the sign of the hammer, none of them did and he was forced to repeat and the crowd obeyed. Although he had seen many dwarves in the past, it was unusual to see a maiden of their race abroad.

'A dwarf!' exclaimed one of the men in his flock

'Sigmar grants us favour this day!' exclaimed another man

The dwarf suddenly looked back to the crowd with an expression of alarm; she then looked to the priest. The priest then capitalized upon this and shouted to the crowd

'You are right my son! Sigmar brings us one of the folk of the mountain! A sign of fortune and favour!' he said.

'Praise to Sigmar and to his Angels of Stone! The crowd replied with fervor.


What? Was all Vanyra Skorrisdottir could mentally say, for several days now she had been walking along the dwarf road towards the Empire from her home of Karaz-a-Karak. She traveled with little incident but in the last two days she had spotted a gathering band of vile greenskins getting ready to cross the pass. She had heard how the Imperials kept fortresses and outposts within the pass as well as maintained shrines to honour the victory of Sigmar and his allies against the greenskins as such she had thought to simply pass on a warning to any humans of the coming greenskins. She had also heard how many umgi pilgrims visited the shrines and by her rotten luck she had bumped into one of the strangest of such cults she, the likes which believed the involvement of her people was divine providence.

The human priest then gave a respectful bow to her and exclaimed a little too loudly 'To what pleasure we owe to you? Daughter of Stone!'

Suddenly feeling rather awkward, Vanyra cleared her throat and said 'I am just passing by into the Empire. You should know there is a large group of greenskins, both orcs and goblins coming this way. Shouldn't be at least half a day's march from here I reckon.' A collective gasp rippled amongst the crowd at the word of the greenskins came. 'It would be best' she continued 'if you all took shelter in one of the forts or outposts your Empire keeps here'

'Do you hear that!?' shouted the priest again 'Not only is this dwarf an Angel of Stone! But a Guardian One as well! Let us bring word to the faithful so we may crush the green vermin like Sigmar did so many centuries ago!' a series of approvals resounded from the crowd and the humans made way for the priest to lead them.

'Mein Frau' asked the priest in a polite and thankfully more quite tone 'would you care to accompany us? The nearest fortress should only be a few hours away from here.'

'All right, but I will stay back and keep an eye out for any trouble' replied Vanyra

'Then I shall have brother Holschwittz accompany you then' said the priest

The priest then called out the name of the man, and to them came a large scar-faced and brown-bearded human wearing a dented breastplate and helmet which had seen better days. The man wore ragged purple and yellow garments under his armor, she noted several pieces of paper attached with wax upon his armor and the man carried an amulet of the twin tailed comet. She could see he had a broad sword by the left side of his belt and a shield upon his left arm. The man saluted her and she simply gave a curt nod.

'Brunner Holschwittz ma'am!' saluted the human proudly

'Vanyra Skorrisdottir' was her reply. The congregation advanced forward to the west side of the pass towards the Empire. As she had said, Vanyra travelled at the back to keep watch for any greenskins. As they travelled she noted how many of the humans seemed to look upon her with reverence which began to annoy the dwarf. A number of them even began to purposefully lag behind so they could touch her cloak, her shoulders or her hair as if it would give them good luck, they would then quickly move back to rejoin the main group. She carried on with this stoically knowing that now was hardly the time to start an unnecessary fight.

The flock travelled without incident, across the pass. The human swordsman travelled at the back with both Vanyra and her grey mule which she took to calling Got. The man spoke (without Vanyra even bothering to ask) about his time in the armies of the Empire and how he truly found his calling when he met Father Schultz, the loud priest. The two men as well as many others had fought in numerous battles against the minions of Chaos, the greenskins and other men on several occasions. She listened with feigned politeness until the man began speaking of a campaign he had fought alongside the dwarfs of Zhufbar against the green hordes.

Brunner described to her the many wondrous machines he had been awed by, all of which she already recognized from the simple large guns on wheels like the siege cannon, or the organ gun to the more fantastic contraptions such as the Gyrocopters and to her surprise even the rare Deathrollers. As the man continued to talk, she noticed a faint but familiarly foul scent in the air. Raising her right hand and gesturing to wait, the man grew silent as Vanyra turned around to face the opposite side of the pass.

Reaching for the coif of her mail armor and covering her head, she pulled out her rifle and Vanyra looked into the bronze scope and hissed with much hate 'grobi'.

'What? What is it?' asked Brunner worriedly

'Goblin Wolfriders' replied Vanyra, as if to accentuate the point the air was soon filled with the distant howls of wolves. Continuing to aim down the scope she heard the voice of Brunner as he called to alarm of the presence of the wolves, the dwarf watched as the group of greenskins began getting closer, she counted that there were at least seven wolf riders. Each wolf was ridden upon by a filthy grobi clad in shoddy leather armor and swinging crude blades and spears in the direction of the humans.

Locking on to the lead wolf, Vanyra squeezed the trigger of her rifle and it created a loud pow as a tongue of fire and smoke belched out a lead ball from the muzzle. Swiftly placing her rifle upon the ground she pulled out her crossbow and loaded a fresh magazine, pulling the lever upon the stock the magazine clicked into place. Taking aim once more at the group of riders and saw as the goblin which rode upon the wolf she had just shot finished tumbling upon the hard earth.

The pack of wolf riders continued their advance and a number of them began hurling spears well beyond their effective range. She opened fire, releasing a volley of steel tipped bolts which generated a series of clacking sounds; the bolts mortally wounded another wolf and killed its rider. Switching targets she continued to open fire as the riders closed in and she successfully cut down another 'Krut!' She hissed and rolled away to her right as several spears struck into where she had once been standing.

Feeling the painful impact as her right shoulder hit the earth and a mild sense of vertigo she saw the goblins were now much closer. Swiftly raising her crossbow again she released two more bolts which struck a goblin in the chest and a wolf directly into its maw. Her crossbow began clicking again thus signifying the magazine was empty, looking back to the goblins she knew she did not have time to load in a new magazine.

Dropping her crossbow, she ripped the sword out of the scabbard with her left hand and brought out her wrench with her right. Quickly moving into a defensive stance, she braced herself for the assault of the nearest wolf rider. At a closer range she could the hideous little creature which rode upon the wolf, it pointed a short stone headed spear at her as it gleefully charged towards her. The wolf leapt towards her with its jaws slavering wide open, swinging her wrench in a backhanded swing she struck the wolf in the side of its face while her sword parried the spear.

The wolf whined in pain as it veered away from her, the goblin shouted curses at her and she quickly spun towards the wolf rider and darted towards it side. The wolf wobbled with its steps clearly concussed from her strike, the goblin thrust its spear towards her she used her wrench to parry the spear point. The goblin swiftly positioned its shield to block her sword and the blade punched through the rotted wood with enough force to pin the goblin's shield arm to its chest and the edge of the blade pierced the goblin's gut.

Shrieking in pain the goblin swung its spear at Vanyra and the wooden shaft which had already been damaged by her parries shattered against her mail coif. Grunting in pain from the attack, she let go of her grip upon her sword and she struck the goblin's ribs with her wrench, she felt a satisfying crack of bones before she swiftly jumped back to avoid the clumsy bite of the wolf. Darting back she used both her hands to bring the wrench's head down upon the wolf's skull and bashing it in and before swinging the wrench around over her head and striking the goblin in the chest.

Using her wrench she bludgeoned the goblin to death along with its wolf before retrieving her sword. She was forced to use her foot to help dislodge the blade from the now dead grobi's shield, looking back to the humans she saw a two of the remaining wolf riders were dead and the humans jeered at last one which turned tail and fled. She could see the red priest roaring praises as he held a bloodied two-handed hammer high; around him were four members of his flock who were equipped with proper weapons and armor. One of the humans waved to her and she nodded, best that they get moving again she thought.


Having picked up her weapons, she rejoined the group of pilgrims. The other humans it seemed had joined the fight by hurling rocks at the greenskin wolf riders, while most had missed; many had begun to find their marks at closer range. Five men were injured in the fight with one having wounds which were quite serious, fortunately among the pilgrims was at least one old woman knew the basics of healing and the men's wounds were salved and bandaged. The closest Imperial Fort was not far away now and the old woman was confident that the injured man would make it.

It was later in the day when the sun had begun to set that the pilgrims made it to the safety of Fort Wachsein. Built into the mountain wall itself, it was clear to Vanyra that while although the fortress was built-in an old human style; the craftsmanship of the masonry was clearly of dwarf quality. The fortress was a set in a roughly square-shaped fashion with the north side being built into the mountain wall and containing the keep, the east and west side having multiple guard towers, but the eastern one contained artillery defenses. The southern wall contained the main gate from which travelers and soldiers could move in and out. The fortress was the beginning from this side of the pass to the other of a series of four Imperial bastions intended to break or at the least delay an invading army, with Fort Wachsein being the smallest. The Imperial troops seemed to already know about the approaching greenskins and with practiced discipline the men of the Imperial troops were making ready while a rider was had already been sent west to pass along the message to the other forts.

Night had now fallen and the witch moon the humans called Morrslieb rose high into the sky, an ominous sign Vanyra noted. The fort had an inn intended for merchants passing to and from the Empire to Karaz-a-Karak, currently there were five other dawi within the fortress. Two of them were the Innkeeper and his son, another was a ranger who had spotted the same greenskin horde as Vanyra did and reported it to the Imperials. The other two dwarfs were a pair of rowdy slayers who happened to be heading back into the Dwarf Realms; unsurprisingly they were the only ones aside from the pilgrims who actually seemed happy at the greenskin army.

Sitting upon a heavy wooden chair intended for human use, Vanyra's legs dangled off the floor as she cleaned and polished her wrench with a rag, removing the last bits of wolf and goblin blood and brain matter. She smelled the delicious aroma of a bowl of kuri and looked to her right as the innkeeper's son; a beardling about a decade younger than her had placed the bowl upon her table along with a mug of foaming ale. She thanked the young dwarf who gave her a bashful look before returning to the other tables.

'Urk Uzkul!' cheerfully shouted one of the slayers by the bar not far to her right

'Grobi Uzkul!' the second slayer shouted with equal enthusiasm

The two slayers were clearly quite drunk and the two began boasting in Khazalid about how many greenskins they will slay. The inn was rather empty as the human soldiers were forbidden by the fortress commander to drink this night, the pilgrims she traveled with were likely holed up in the church praying to Sigmar, she never understood why the humans thought Sigmar was a god rather than a great hero, she heard how humans could easily get violent when it came to matters of faith so she decided not to openly question it.

Digging into her meal which was quite good, she enjoyed the beer as well for it was of a refreshingly Hazkal quality. Having left the rest of her equipment in her room, she resolved that early the next morning she should leave so she would not be trapped within the fortress for she still had important matters to attend to. She began to grow amused by the slayers as they entered a bout of rather ludicrous boasts accompanied by more drinks of ale, the slayers began becoming rowdier as it escalated into a game of creative insults. She could see both began to tightly grip the handles of the mugs or clench their fists.

'Oi Nai Skuff!' yelled the bartender. The slayers laughed and made rude gestures which caused the beardling to laugh and the innkeeper gave his son a stern look before the youth turned away and went back to the kitchen. Hearing the tavern door open and feeling a faint draft of wind, Vanyra looked up from her meal to see an armored older human male walk into the tavern. The Innkeeper respectfully saluted the human while the two slayers only gave a glance before going back to their boasting, the human nodded towards the innkeeper and then he looked to Vanyra herself.

Walking towards her table, Vanyra looked up to the man. He was a tall broad-shouldered figure, he looked to be middle-aged (not that she was good at telling the age of humans) with a balding heading, his short grey hair ringed the side of his head while his was fashioned in a thick mutton chops style. The human's armor was more ornate compared to the others, thus he was likely to be the fortress's commander, the human saluted Vanyra and said in a formal and stately tone 'A moment of your time fraulein'

'Can I help you?' replied Vanyra politely while nodding to the human

'I am Captain Lugo Hoffman, commanding officer of Fort Wachsein. I would respectfully ask that you inspect the firearms and cannons of this fort and see if each weapon is in proper condition.'

'I see' said Vanyra while raising an eyebrow 'sorry captain, but I have important business in the Empire, so I will leave early in the morning'

The captain nodded 'I understand my lady, but I ask that you reconsider. As you are not an Imperial citizen I do not have the authority to conscript you, but I ask in the name of the old oaths between our peoples.'

'Like I said manling, I-'

'You will also be well rewarded in crowns if you perform this task, and if you assist us in the coming battle it shall be greater' interrupted the Captain. His words immediately got her attention, but also the attentions of the slayer and the innkeepers as well as his son with the mention of gold.

Vanyra could see the human understood that she was now giving him her full undivided attention.

'As the commanding officer of this garrison' said the Captain 'I am authorized to issue a mercenary's writ which can be redeemed at Fort Helden for a sum of five crowns to any individual who aids in the defense of the Empire, I am authorized as well to issue more than one to an individual.'

Already weighing her options, Vanyra had to remind herself that she did have an important task to finish, yet at the same time the chance of acquiring some gold even if it was cheap human gold, was intriguing. Immediately she decided to forgo sleep to make the inspection and then leave. Looking up to the captain she nodded to the human officer and told him he had a deal, offering her hand in the gesture humans used when making deals they shook hands and their pact was made.

The rest of the night proved busy for Vanyra, she inspected over eighty Thrunds, three cannons and a mortar. The humans at the least kept their equipment in working condition but more than few looked like it needed some improvement with its maintenance. She had also been asked to inspect fifty crossbows to make sure the mechanisms were working properly. After her inspections, the sun had already begun to rise and she went back to her room at the inn, there the Captain had been good to his word and had left a writ. The writ was just a simple piece of paper which stated that the bearer of it should be given five gold coins, to be redeemed at Fort Helden, signed with the Captain's signature and sealed in wax depicting a griffon holding a hammer. Feeling weary she sat down on her bed and promised just a few minutes of rest her eyes.

Hearing loud poundings on her door, Vanyra opened her eyes and realized that she had fallen asleep. Cursing in Khazalid she hoped that perhaps the greenskins were still far away, but she heard the sudden muffled booms of the cannons and knew it was too late. The fortress would now likely be in lock down and she cursed herself for over sleeping. Putting on her armor and making sure her gear was ready she left her room at the inn to assess the situation outside.


In the stables by the inn, Vanyra could hear the agitated braying of Got. Patting the pack mule upon its head and trying to calm the beast, she went for the hardened urk hide leather containers placed by the mule. Working the dwarf locks placed upon it, she opened one of the containers and removed several black egg-shaped devices to which she attached to her belt. Within the same container she also removed several glass bottles which once contained cheap human swills but now a potent mix of flammable alchemical oils, stuffing rags into the bottles. With a deep sigh she prayed to the Ancestor Gods for strength for she had never been in a siege before.

Stepping out of the stable into the early afternoon sun she heard the series of booms from the Imperial cannons and the staccato of fire from their handgunners, taking a deep breath with rifle in hands she rushed to the eastern ramparts to join the defense. She passed by a number of humans who were carrying fresh quivers of crossbow bolts, arrow and satchels of black powder, bullets and other supplies to the soldiers fighting upon the rampart. From the other side of the wall she could the loud unison of greenskins roaring their brutish war cry 'WAAAAGGGHH!'

She made her way to one of the guard towers which contained a spiraling staircase leading to the ramparts. Before she entered the doorway she heard a high-pitched screaming from above, glancing up she saw a goblin fly over the wall, it bore a sharp pointy helmet and strange leather wing like devices under its arms, the goblin flew down from the air and crashed into the stone ground with a snap of its neck bone. She recognized the suicidal insanity used by the greenskins from the tales she had heard or the journals she had read but to actually see it increased her revulsion for their barbarous race.

The rampart was a frenzy of activity, Imperial archers raised their bows high and unleashed volleys of arrows at the greenskins, while crossbowmen and handgunners directly aimed their weapons at the horde. A handgunner fell back with surprise as a goblin nearly skewered his face, the man landed on his rump and the goblin landed with bone shattering force upon the ledge of the rampart before flopping over to a lethal fall to the courtyard. Swiftly taking the handgunner's place Vanyra caught a glimpse at the greenskin horde and her eyes widened with surprise, despite the haze of eye stinging smoke from the handgunners, she could clearly see and worse of all smell the greenskin horde which had increased in number since she last spotted them. She estimated that there were probably at least a five thousand or more greenskins out there, twice more than when she last saw the horde.

Quickly leaving her position to allow the handgunner to retake his place, she searched for a more favorable position which did not obscure her field of vision so she could fire upon the greenskins. Running across the ramparts and trying to avoid getting in the way of the humans, she eventually found an empty wooden crate stacked by the wall and perfect for her to shoot from. Standing upon the crate she was able to get a better view and she cursed as she also saw many war machines, aside from the crude catapults, she also saw bolt throwers, siege towers, ladders and chariots although thankfully the chariots would be of little concern as of now.

Taking aim she looked down the scope of her rifle and sought for any good targets, she noted a capering black hooded goblin shaking a staff with several fetishes tied to the top. The goblin began to glow with sorcerous light and she squeezed the trigger, the goblin shaman's head exploded in a shower of gore and the dwarf grinned with satisfaction. Stepping down from the crate to her right she began to reload her rifle with back to the stone parapets, feeling the shaking of the wall as a shot from a catapult struck it, she cursed as she spilled a bit of black powder. Getting back up she heard another series of booms from the Imperial cannons and watched as two of the greenskin siege weapons blossomed in fire. 'Two down and a lot more to go' she grimly thought as the battle was only beginning.

Firing her rifle again she watched as an orc nob fell back with a bullet to its skull. For hours on end now she carefully had to pick out the leaders within the horde, from her years of experience growing up as the daughter of a ranger she could easily pick out which orcs had darker skin tone and which ones were bigger than the others thus allowing her to deal with the lead ones first. Going down to reload again, she heard a cry of pain as a handgunner to her left was struck by an arrow a little above his left elbow, blood spat out from the wound as the crude thing was lodged into the man with the head not piercing through to the other end.

The human was quite young by her guess, possibly in his late teens with only stubble of a beard. The human tried to pull out the projectile but Vanyra stopped him for she had bitter experience dealing with grobi arrows.

'Don't pull it out!' she said with as much authority as she could

'I have an arrow stuck in me!' replied the man hysterically

'I see, but pulling it out will do more damage, you have to push it out'

'Are you insane!?'

'Do what you will manling, but I have a had dealings with wounds like that'

The man looked to the wound and he tried to pull it, the gentlest movement caused the man to shout in agony and collapse to his knees, the man then looked to Vanyra and he nodded 'okay let's do it your way, just please get it out!'

Nodding to the human, Vanyra told the man to keep his head down, she laid her rifle upon the crate and she pulled out a strip of leather from one of her satchels and she told the man to bite on it. Doing as he was told the human bit on it and held the leather strip between his teeth, pulling out her wrench to which she put upon the crate, she then pulled out her sword to which the man's eyes widened and she told him to get ready.

The human began breathing rapidly and Vanyra grabbed the arrow, the man whimpered and with a swift motion she cleanly cut through the wooden shaft and removed the fletched section. The human began to rapidly breathe again and she told him that now was going to be the real painful part. The human nodded and Vanyra began to forcefully push the arrow down, the leather strip muffled the intense scream of agony from the human, she held him in a tight vice-like grip as she pushed the cruelly barbed arrowhead out. It poked and tore through the flesh under his arm until it popped out with a mild spatter of blood.

As soon as it was out, Vanyra grabbed her wrench and used its jaws to clamp upon the arrowhead and pull it out. The human continued to scream in pain and with a final pull the bloody arrow came out all the way. The human continued to rapidly breathe even after the arrow was removed; Vanyra then took from her satchel a small clay pot which perfectly fit upon her hand, gently sliding back a section of the lid, it revealed a small opening a big as her little finger. The human looked at her with a pained expression, sweat glistened on his forehead, she told him to put his right hand directly under the wound and then to get ready again, he nodded in understanding.

Tilting the pot, a clear green liquid began to pour out into the man's wound and he screamed in further pain, it was a mix of boiled water and medicinal herbs which over time turned the medicine into a more viscous form. It was a very potent mix, normally requiring a shot of alcohol first to dull the pain but now was hardly the time. Likely the human was feeling the intense burning feeling which would purge away or at least get rid of most of whatever disease or sickness carried by the filth upon the arrowhead.

The human rapidly breathed again, to his credit he did not pass out. The young human looked to her with watery eyes and began to profusely thank her

'Thank you mein frau, thank you!' he said with exasperation

'You're welcome manling' she said with a curt nod before sheathing her weapons and going back to her rifle.

'Dieter Jensen, mein frau' said the human 'my name is Dieter Jensen'

'Vanyra Skorrisdottir' she replied curtly and the human gave a weary grin and she could not help but notice the odd way he now looked at her.

Nodding again to the human and feeling a bit awkward she warned him to let his arm rest; he nodded to her and asked for permission from his sergeant. The sergeant allowed it and Dieter looked back to Vanyra of whom was already back to taking shots at the greenskins. Vanyra heard him limp away before she heard another cry of pain, looking back her eyes widened an arrow was now lodged into the side of his neck, he gurgled struggling for breath as he held the arrow and began to stagger dangerously close to the ledge. Putting her gun down, she tried to get him but Dieter then took a wrong step and he fell off the wall, Vanyra was on her knees as her hands held the ledge, she heard the sickening sound as she saw Dieter splatter the ground red.

Grunting a curse at the greenskins, she went back and sighted down her scope, she found a grobi archer clad in red squig leather gleefully firing arrows at the ramparts. The vile grobi danced and capered after every shot and she squeezed the trigger, the grobi's head exploded yet her face remained grim.


The cannons boomed again, but this time the sound was somewhat muffled by the walls of the inn. Sitting down on a stool by the bar, Vanyra knocked back a mug full of ale. She covered her mouth with her right fist as she quietly belched and she looked to her left to see the two grumbling slayers. Belegar Gomrundson and Fimbur Harokson had begrudgingly spent much of the battle shouting curses and throwing axes and using spare crossbows to shoot at the greenskins.

The first slayer, Belegar had the typical look amongst the Slayer Cult, his hair had been dyed orange and styled into a single crest with his beard decorated with snotling skulls. His garments were also the usual trousers only style as the dwarf walked barefooted, his weapon was a massive ornate axe had the clear wondrous hue of gromril decorated with delicate Bryn lines. The second slayer Fimbur wielded a two-handed hammer, she noted by the way he carried and used it, he fought with the fighting style of a Hammerer. The second slayer wore several pieces of jewelry pierced into his flesh, from earrings, nose piercings and rings of gold skewering his nipples, he also had an impressive carpet of orange hair upon his chest which added to his feral look. The bodies of both slayers were covered in swirling blue tattoos.

The Imperials had been smart enough to focus their artillery upon the enemy siege towers and artillery, only one siege tower had managed to close in and both dwarfs had assailed it and set fire to the tower, the dwarf ranger of whom was named Enlag Stormrun had also joined the Slayers in assaulting the siege towers. The three dwarfs slaughtered the orcs and set fire to the siege tower from within, it reminded Vanyra of The Siege of Praag from "My Travels with Gotrek". The ranger himself was a gray-bearded fellow, he sat at the corner of the inn with his concealing his face, he was smoking a pipe with his feet propped up by the edge of the table.

Surprisingly even the Innkeeper and his son had joined in the siege. During the battle, Grindol Thunderbeard and his son Haakon Grindolson took up blunderbusses and joined the Imperial troops upon the ramparts. When siege ladders began connecting to the wall, the two began blasting away at the orcs which managed to get up before the Imperials knocked them over. Vanyra noticed how the innkeeper fired his gun and reloaded with the practiced discipline of a Thunderer, his son had also done so in a satisfyingly ordered manner.

True to the Captain's word, the slayers and the ranger were visited by a human soldier who gave each of them a writ which the dwarves eyed greedily. The slayers cursed again at the greenskins for pulling back, while the savages were still camped outside they had merely stopped to regroup and get ready for another assault. The common room of the inn was almost full; it was mostly occupied by the men whose injuries were not bad enough to be confined to the fortress's triage section or the church.

Taking a seat by her left she saw the human Brunner Holschwittz take a seat beside her. Some of the Imperials seemed to eye Brunner suspiciously, but he did not seem to mind, the man only wore his filthy yellow and purple uniform now. Looking to the man, Vanyra nodded and the human nodded back while making the sign of the hammer, she dearly hoped this man would not start praying to her. The innkeeper called to the Brunner, asking him if what drink wanted; the human seemed to struggle with the suggestion of ale and simply asked for water and a bowl of stew and bread.

Hearing the slayers and some of the patrons snort and mutter insults towards Brunner, the man ignored them and looked back to Vanyra

'One hell of a scrap today eh?' he said.

'Aye it is' Vanyra replied grimly 'And its only been the first day.' Knocking back another gulp, she enjoyed the heat which began to grow in her belly; gods knew she really needed this drink. Starting to feel weary, she pulled out her coin pouch and left behind three silver coins on the counter. Giving a mock salute to the human she staggered off to her room.

Her sleep was filled with troubled thoughts, she felt her regret at being stuck in this fort, a sense of anxiety that she would be unable to complete her brother's oaths or avenge is grudges. She also saw the face of that human Dieter and she couldn't figure out why. When dawn came she heard the booms of the cannons again and she knew the greenskins were at it again. Putting on her armor, her cloak, her weapons and explosives, she decided to use her crossbow this day. Opening the door out of her room she noticed a wooden tray with half a loaf of bread, cheese and dried meat along with a mug of ale, she grinned and decided to eat first.


Back up to the eastern ramparts, Vanyra lit the rag stuffed into the bottle by the torch provided to her and she hurled it out over the parapets. She did not have time to see where it hit before she lit another and hurled it. Already it was almost noon and sure enough the greenskins attacked again and this time they did at early morning before the sun rose. The greenskins artillery was now concentrated upon the Imperial cannons, but with a typical lack of accuracy they ended up damaging the walls, hitting defenders on the ramparts, their troops at the front or other things in the courtyard.

The Imperial losses were relatively light compared to the greenskins, but with their foul kind attrition was a war they could easily win. Vanyra watched in satisfaction as her second bottle struck against a troll which lit up in flames and began flailing across the greenskins below and smashing several of the brutes to a pulp. Taking a third bottle and setting its rag ablaze she was about to throw until she saw the swift oncoming form a siege ladder about to the crash into the section of the parapet right in front of her, upon the siege ladder she could see was a roaring tattooed orc which to her great horror was not even wearing a loin cloth.

The orc roared 'WAAAAGGGHHHH!' as its left hand-held onto to the ladder and it pointed a heavy club at the defenders, quickly trusting her instincts Vanyra hurled the glass bottle and it struck the orc in the chest, dousing the greenskin in fire. The nearest humans tried to shoot it and most of them got it but the orc still held on, when the ladder connected the orc leapt off and swung its club down on Vanyra. Rolling to the side and hitting an Imperial's legs, thus throwing off the man's aim. Swiftly pulling out both wrench and sword in hand, she charged the foul flaming urk with the name of Grimnir on her lips.

The orc swung its club down and she was forced to jump back as its weapon crashed upon the rampart and cracking the stone, the orc's head suddenly exploded as a loud crack from an Imperial rifle propelled the lead ball to the killing shot. The flaming orc fell down, still ablaze and the humans began calling for fire. Pushing the body off the ledge, it was fortunate that there were no wooden structures close enough to the wall for a flaming body like that to ignite.

One of the humans pushed down the ladder and in good time too for a group of goblins had almost reached the top. Getting back to her position where the crate still was she brought up her crossbow pulled the lever. Taking aim she indiscriminately fired crossbow bolt after crossbow bolt into the horde, with the way they were jammed together it would have been almost impossible to miss.

An arrow grazed her right shoulder, striking sparks and screeching the steel chain links. The impact had been enough to jerk her to the right and she ruined her aim, she fired a bolt up as she grunted in pain. Cursing she looked down to see goblin archers were now below them and shooting up, a man to her side fell back dead with an arrow piercing through the bottom of his jaw and up to his skull. Releasing another series of bolts this time with better aim she cut down three goblins before she had to reload.

Reaching for his satchels she took out the black egg-shaped devices. Upon each one was a metal ring which had to be removed to activate it, pulling out the pin on one, she hurled the device down upon the goblin archers and it exploded over their heads and showering them with a hail of sharp fragments which cut down many of them. She then hurled another and was satisfied by the pained shrieks as many more were cut down by the second explosion.

And so the battle went again with only a small number of orcs managing to reach the ramparts and losses being quite light on the Imperial side. It had been noted thought by some of the more experienced Imperials that more greenskins managed to make it to the wall this day compared to the previous. The greenskins eventually pulled back and began regrouping again, thus earning a moment of reprieve for the defenders of Fort Wachsein.


Roaring with rage, Warboss Gitzug clanged his axes together. His opponent, Gromgarz Blacktoof pounded his chest and pulled out his swords against the Warboss, the two orc glared at each other balefully while the crowd of greenskins around them roared in amusement and praise.

'Da umies is beat us again!' shouted Gromgarz 'youz not a cunnin git! Youz stoopid!

'Why don't ya come ere an say dose closer! I shoz ya ma sekind opinonz!' roared Gitzug in reply.

The two orcs charged each other and began hacking into each other; both wore heavy armour which protected them from the blows of the other, but the sheer strength behind each strike was enough to dent the plates and sometimes even cleave into it.

For five days now WAAAGH! Gitzug had been held back by the assault against the human fortress. Many of his fellow greenskins had already begun to question Gitzug. He may not have been the smartest orc around but even Gitzug knew that the others were already plotting against him. He had already cursed his luck when his shaman, Sizik had been killed in the first day, he and that goblin had a partnership where Gitzug was the brawn and Sizik was the brains. And now that stupid gobo had his brains blown out when he decided to instill fear upon the defenders of the fortress by announcing the the glories of Gork & Mork to the humans.

It just wasn't fair he had thought. A sword crashed into his left thigh and pain shot through his leg as part of the blade's edge pierced his armor and cut into his flesh. Gitzug grunted and took it, he trusted his instincts and used his right axe to strike the left arm of his foe, the axe cleaved through the now heavily beaten dented metal and into the flesh beneath. Gromgarz roared in pain and rage as the axe blade severed most of his left arm from above the elbow, when Gitzug removed his axe the arm was now only attached by a small strip of flesh which tore away at the weight of the weapons and gauntlets of Gromgarz.

Quickly seizing the initiative, Gitzug began hacking away Gromgarz who only had one arm to defend himself. Gromgarz had managed to successfully parry some of Gitzug's attacks but the warboss wielded two axes and had the advantage of performing two attacks at once. As Gitzug battered away at Gromgarz, he eventually struck a fatal blow wherein his axe sank deep into Gromgarz's face, the now dead rival staggered back for a moment before falling down upon the earth. The greenskins roared around the Warboss as Gitzug, the Warboss began roaring back to the crowd which began to become silent.

'If any o ya gitz fink ya can take me den bring it! So I can addz ya to ma pole!' shouted the Warboss who then pointed to his boss pole across the camp. From the boss pole five orc heads dangled from it, each belonged to a chieftain which made the mistake of challenging Gitzug. No orc challenged Gitzug, thus establishing his dominance as the Warboss, he then shouted 'All rightz then! Back at it ladz 'WWWAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!'

'WWWAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!' was the reply of every orc, goblin and snotling in the camp


Father Johannes Schultz glared angrily up at the roof of the chapel. Several holes had been made when errant orc artillery shots had torn through the masonry. Several pews were smashed and so were a number of the blessed stained glass windows and shrines to the saints. He was thankful though that at least no damage was done to the glorious gilded statue of Sigmar. His god proudly stood in armor forged by the dwarves, his hands rested upon the hilt of Ghal-Maraz and the head of the holy hammer was placed in front of his feet. Father Schultz had taken over as the acting priest when the previous priest, Father Klaus had been injured by an orc blade to the gut and was now recovering at the triage center.

Johannes turned his back to Sigmar and ordered the congregation to kneel down and pray for strength and guidance. His flock as well as those pious soldiers knelt down as they all prayed to the founder of their Empire, he felt proud of his flock as many of them had lent their aid in the battle. Some like Brothers Emile, Brunner, Ludwig and the recently deceased Markus were once soldiers in the various state armies of the Empire, each of them would have considered each other enemies in the past for such is the provincial rivalries within the Empire. Now under the wisdom of Sigmar they each stood side by side and each considered the other a brother.

Others had done what they could as well; the women folk and the children brought water, food and other supplies to the soldiers on the ramparts. Some of them such as old lady Magda and her two daughters assisted the fort's physicians in tending to the wounds. The ones which truly filled him with pride though were the men who volunteered to fight, when the greenskins were far away they used slings and threw rocks upon the savages, when they reached the walls the men charged the greenskins with righteous fervor, using whatever weapons they had in hand. Johannes himself had already taken part in some of the fighting on the wall and he had been successful in smiting greenskins.

Father Schultz himself had been particularly inspired by the actions of the mountainfolk who fought the greenskins with berserk fury. When the prayer had ended he raised his hammer high and shouted

'Go forth, brave Sons of Sigmar! And send the greenskins screaming to their pagan gods!'

'Praise Sigmar!' the men shouted in unison 'Praise Sigmar!'


'Ram at the gate!' shouted an Imperial soldier to Vanyra

'On it!' she replied before shouldering her rifle. Darting across the eastern rampart she made her way to the south section while keeping low, her nose and mouth had been covered with a handkerchief because of the sheer stench of the dead. She passed by many Imperial soldiers and noted how most of them were also trying to cover their noses and mouths; she also noted how now there were more swordsmen, halberdiers and spearmen on the walls now. It was likely that almost after a week of near constant fighting the Imperials were beginning to ration their ammunition.

Word had been spreading that a carrier pigeon arrived the previous day and reinforcements were still being mustered at Fort Helden due to a vampire offensive unto Stirland. While the morale of the humans still remained good with each man ready to stand against the greenskins, there was an air of slowly growing desperation and frustration. Reaching the gate house, Vanyra looked down to see several orcs carrying a log. With a single push the orcs struck the gates which shook and Vanyra could feel the tremor, reaching for one of her bombs, she removed the pin and chucked the egg-shaped device into the battering ram crew.

The egg-shaped device landed upon the log and exploded, scything the orcs in a hail of sharp fragments and splintering a large portion of the log itself. The bloodied corpses of the orcs mingled with the rotting bodies of their kin which previously tried, the fetid stench of the rot mingled with smell of charred bodies as the humans had previously attempted to burn the bodies, it did little though for no matter how many bodies they burnt there would be more orks to assail the walls. In the end the humans had been forced to ration their supply of burning oil so they could use it against the greenskins.

The soldier who had informed Vanyra had saluted her and she gave a light thump of her right fist over her heart. Going back to the eastern rampart she watched as several ladders containing several tattooed orcs clad in furs and wielding clubs or stone axe connected to the ramparts. The orcs leapt down and were quickly engaged by the Imperials, the humans may have had superior numbers for now but the orcs fought with a savagery more feral than their other kin. An orc wielding a club backhanded a human off the rampart ledge and the man fell to his death, the orc took a blade in the gut and it bashed in the skull of its stabber. The orc was eventually felled by a spear to the back which burst out in front of the orc's neck.

Engaging one of the tattooed orcs in melee, Vanyra side-stepped to her right from the orc's left footed kick. Swiftly countering with a thrust from her sword, she impaled the greenskin in the area where a human's manhood would be and the orc created a loud and surprisingly high-pitched shriek. The orc swung its club at her and he blocked it with her wrench, the impact was enough to knock her to the parapets and she landed painfully to the stone.

The back of her torso and her head struck parapet and the breath was knocked out from her, she momentarily became dizzy before she shook it off. Looking to the orc it briefly gave her a baleful look before a spear from a human behind her struck the orc in the chest and a halberd crashed over the brute's head and splattering blood and brain matter. Vanyra shouted in alarm to the halberdier as a goblin climbed up from a ladder and leapt towards the man, the man turned around in time for the goblin to land on him before it plunged a short sword into his face. The gobbling plunged it again to make sure the man was dead before Vanyra closed in crushed its skull with her wrench, its head splattered like an over-ripe piece of fruit and showering her in gore.

'Incoming!' shouted and Imperial several men leapt to the side with many knocking down their fellows as a boulder directly struck against the parapets and shattered the stone before bouncing off into the courtyard. An unfortunate man screamed in agony as his left leg was caught in the boulder's path and it had been horribly flattened from the knee to below. A halberdier rushed to the injured man and raised his weapon, the man pleaded hysterically before the halberd came down and severed the leg from the ruined part. The halberdier breathed rapidly and had a look of not exactly believing what he just did, an officer began shouting at them and the halberdier want back into line while the injured man was carried with his blood gushing upon the stones.

The sight of all of it had deeply bothered Vanyra for she had never fought in a battle such as this, shaking her head and knowing now was not the time to bother, she placed her weapons down beside her and took out her rifle. Looking down the scope again she sighted upon a large orc wielding a bow, as the orc raised its weapon and placed the arrow upon the string, Vanyra fired and the beast fell like a puppet with its strings cut


On the eighth night of the siege of Fort Wachsein, Captain Lugo Hoffman sat by his desk, his gauntleted hands were held tightly together as he listened to the reports from his right hand man, Reiner Euler. They had gone through supplies at an alarming rate, if the quartermaster was to be believed they only had enough food and clean water for probably five days at best. He cursed and knew what the problem was, before the attack he had suspected that someone in the fort was stealing supplies and selling it to the merchant caravans which passed by.

Although he had never been able to get solid proof, he strongly suspected it was an officer named Gunter Voss, a young noble born fop who had bribed his way to his position. With mounting frustration, he began to think as well of the men of whom he suspected were also in cahoots with Voss. As Reiner finished his report, Lugo dismissed his old friend and sighed with weariness. He had been unable to sleep in two days and his body was sore from the battering he had received from the greenskins. Slowly removing his armor on his own, he placed his gear upon a stand and he poured himself a bottle of Brettonian red.

Gulping down the expensive drink as if it were ale, he did not care how hard it was to get it or any proper etiquette which would have angered a Bretonnian. All he cared about right now was how long they could last, deciding to write a letter and release another carrier pigeon, an idea came into his mind on how he would deal with the treasonous snakes in their midst. He grinned and knew tomorrow would be a perfect time.


'You can't do this!' shouted the human as he stood upon the platform 'You don't have any damn proof!'

Vanyra watched with morbid interest at the execution taking place, she didn't know the human's name or what he had done. All she knew was that he was one of their noble born officers judging from his regalia in the past days. The man was now clad in rags and his eyes and much of his face was now bruised, from the days before Vanyra had thought him to be a bit attractive for a human. The man continued to rant and rave in defiance before the Captain came up to him and spoke

'Gunter Voss! You have been charged and found guilty of illegally bartering military supplies and resources! By your actions you have not only endangered the lives of the men and women within this Fortress but also you have endangered the realm of our holy lord Sigmar! By law you are to be executed for your treason!'

'I am innocent you bastard!' replied the human named Gunter Voss 'When my father hears about this he will have your damn head!'

'May Morr have mercy on your traitorous soul' grimly said the captain before he walked to the side of the platform and pulled a lever which caused the floor to collapse and the rope tied around the neck of Gunter Voss tightened.

Vanyra had never seen a lynching before and it somewhat disturbed her, she knew she would probably have to get use to the sight if was going to be traveling into the Empire. She had heard of the stories of how violently insane the humans could get, with public executions like this were supposed to be a common thing. Among dwarves, executions were a rare and quiet thing, most criminals at least have the decency to take the Slayers Oath and let the gods judge it in the end.

As the human choked and swung, the walls rumbled again as a boulder smashed against the already battered eastern wall. Without need for orders the Imperial soldiers began heading for the staircases within the guard towers, Vanyra herself raced up along with the humans. At the top she cursed to see that now there were multiple siege towers coming at them, the Imperial artillery opened fire and one of the towers collapsed, an explosion blossomed within the horde and showering the greenskins with blood and pieces of their comrades.

Armed again with her crossbow, Vanyra loaded a fresh magazine and began firing into the horde. She noted now that the horde was not as vast it had been upon the previous, she estimated that the Imperials had slain at least half of the horde, she hoped that they would be able to hold out long enough for reinforcements or for the horde to break apart. As she continued to pour more bolts into the horde she noted at least one tower began to become dangerously close, reaching to her belt she pulled out her last two bombs, she knew she had to make these one counts.

As soon as the bridge of the tower began to drop Vanyra removed the pins and roared 'Get down!' to the Imperials who understood her meaning, several men crouched down as the two egg-shaped devices flew over the greenskins and exploded. The top of the siege tower splintered as pieces of metal, wood and bone flew out and scythed down many orcs along with the fragments of the two explosive devices. The tower then collapsed and crushed many more greenskins underneath. The humans gave a ragged cheer to Vanyra who had already gone back to shooting the greenskins.

Her destruction of the siege tower had only been a short-lived victory as a second and third tower connected to the eastern rampart, the Imperials opened fire cutting down many orcs but more and more brutes began charging out. The orcs crashed into the wall of spears and halberds with reckless abandon, they laughed and shouted as they finally rushed into the melee with the humans. Loading a fresh magazine, Vanyra left her position to intercept the greenskins. Raising her crossbow's sights up to her eyes she began to carefully pick out her targets.

An orc stumbled as a bolt struck the beast in the left knee; it was knocked down and trampled upon by its kin. She fired a bolt that struck an orc in the shoulder as it attempted to plunge a spear into an Imperial swordsman, the swordsman quickly used the orc's distraction to plunge his blade into the orc's chest and pierce its heart. Another bolt she had fired was to the thigh of an orc that had been charging towards her position, the orc stumbled like the previous one and it was knocked over the rampart by another orc, the orc behind received a bolt between the eyes as a reward.

'Haha! Khazuk!' shouted a deep voice behind her, looking back she watched the Slayers charge toward the orcs with weapons raised high. Belegar and Fimbur ran passed her and charged into the orcs, their teamwork was impressive as they brutally carved and smashed their ways through the greenskins. A sword struck Belegar in the arm but the dwarf hardly seemed to notice it before Fimbur struck the greenskin's chest. Knowing better not to interrupt a slayer and his doom, Vanyra reloaded her crossbow and began searching for more targets.

As the two slayers fought their way to the nearest siege tower, Vanyra heard the loud booms of a pair of blunderbusses from the south wall as Grindol and Haakon blasted a group of greenskins into bloody smears. As the two dwarves began reloading, Enlag and several Imperial crossbowmen fired a volley of bolts which scythed down several orcs. She could see that three siege towers had made it to the south wall and already the humans were engaging the greenskins. One of the good things about fighting on terrain like this was that you often had a clear line of sight to the enemies on the other sides.


'Forward Sons of Sigmar!' shouted Johannes Schultz. His hammer came down in an overhead swing and crushed the face of an orc, he then shifted the haft in time to block an orc blade aimed at his torso while Brother Holschwittz thrust his sword forward and caught the orc in the chest, the man pushed his weight into the strike and his sword plunged deep. Moving past Brother Holschwittz he swung his hammer to the right and shattered the jaw of another orc, which was knocked to the parapet and Brother Ludwig pulverized its face with his flail.

Glorious thought Father Schultz as he swung his hammer down and splattered the brains of a goblin; he then grabbed a black hooded one with his gauntleted left hand and hurled it over the parapets, the vile little thing screamed all the way down. For days now he fought and bled with righteous fury against the greenskins, while he had fought greenskins many times in the past, it was different here in Blackfire Pass. The blood of the greenskins was his baptism, his hammer the tool of his benediction, he felt purified in the fires of battle.

Looking back he saw Father Klaus battering his way through several greenskins, although the two priests had never seen eye to eye nor had they agreed on many matters regarding the proper worship of their lord, he knew that now upon this battle they would agree to the purgation of the orc and the goblin. Swiftly looking forward again, he saw more orcs crossing over the bridge of the siege tower, he knew the tower had to go down but he did not know if he had any proper weapons for it.

Rallying his faithful, Father Schultz charged once more into the fray. Knocking an orc off the ledge and hammering another in the groin, he heard the high-pitched frenzied shrieking of a goblin. Looking to his right he saw a black-robed goblin bounding out from the siege tower and wielding a chain ball, the goblin leapt from the bridge and landed upon one of the parapets, it then jumped again coming right towards him. Roaring in challenge he charged the goblin fanatic, knowing full well what damage can be caused by the stunted fiends while under the influence of vile greenskin alchemy.

The goblin leapt up with its chained ball trailing behind it, everything seemed to slow down and he could see the horrid little thing in perfect detail as its red eyes glared balefully at him and its mouth foamed with spittle. As the goblin was about to swing its weapon down, three crossbow bolts struck it in mid-flight and knocked the goblin off the wall, its ball struck one of the parapets and shattered the blessed dwarf hewed stone into pebbles.

Looking to the direction of the crossbow bolts he caught a glimpse of the dwarf maiden his flock had encountered at the pass, the dwarf fired another series of bolts at the orcs on his section of the rampart. Quietly whispering a prayer in honor of the mountainfolk, he resumed his bloody work of smiting greenskins.


Raising his flintlock pistol, Captain Lugo pulled the trigger and shot an orc in the face, its head exploded in a shower of viscera and brain matter. Quickly reversing the grip on his pistol he charged towards the nearest orc and skewered the beast before ripping the blade out along with many of the orc's entrails and bashing its skull with the butt of his pistol. The frustration and pent-up anger which simmered within him over the days had instantly evaporated in the heat and violence of battle.

Roaring the name of Ulric he decapitated an orc and watched with satisfaction as blood gushed out like a fountain, he bashed in the face of a goblin with his pistol before kicking it hard the chest and finishing it with a clinical thrust. He felt the impact as a spear struck against breast-plate, the fine dwarf forged steel held and it slightly winded the captain, he repaid the orc by splitting its head in half. Behind him, Reiner Euler roared wordlessly as he rushed forward and began to swing his great sword in deadly arcs.

Taking the time to holster his pistol and pick up another one, charged back into the fray alongside. The two men fought savagely like Middenheimers, each one had fought side by side alongside each other in countless battles, and each man knew the strengths, weaknesses and skills of the other. Euler bifurcated one orc and cut deeply into another, the Captain then parried and orc axe and shoved the muzzle of his pistol under its belly before pulling the trigger. The greenskin jerked back and Euler thrust his sword into its maw, the blade sliced through the back of the orc's head and impaled another orc.

The Captain could see the orc line already thinning; upon the other side of the group he caught the glimpses of the two slayers. He savagely roared again and he heard his men roar in reply, Lugo Hoffman felt proud of his men this day, while the less savory elements still needed to be cleaned up, he was glad that no man had turned to flee or attempted some sort of mutiny. He was also proud to be on the ramparts this day; his boots were stained with blood as he fought upon the gore streaked walls.

Bashing another greenskin over the head, he raised his sword to parry a charging orc's sword, the beast then suddenly stopped with its eyes rolling up and it fell with an axe lodged into its back. Looking up he saw a barefooted slayer grinning with savage glee, the slayer had bled from dozens of cuts and several deep wounds into his arms and torso and yet he still stood. Nodding to the slayer, he was about to say something before a siege tower connected upon the parapets next to them, and out came a massive orc he recognized as of being the Warboss.


'Attak ya gitz! Attak!' roared Warboss Gitzug. He ground his teeth with frustration as another tower fell, the top section exploded with fire and he guessed that the humans used their boom dust to destroy it. He roared more orders to his boyz to attack but even he could see that their losses were significant, the human big boom sticks had pulverized much of their siege weapons and the giant rocks and spears they shot at them did not do enough damage against the walls.

He thought he saw a glow of golden light upon the walls but shook his head and dismissed it as sunlight gleaming from the armor of the humans. He was also losing patience because he himself wanted to be up there, but he had a feeling that if he did, the other chieftains might use it as an opportunity to do him in from behind. So he watched and continued to shout orders until his voice began to become tired.

Eventually a number of orcs began retreating and the Warboss ordered his black orcs to attack. The orcs which attempted to run were cut down by Gitzug and his guards; he began making more threats and had to kill more than a few to get them back in line. With his patience already at its limits he demanded the night goblins to begin consuming their mushroom so they could charge towards the enemy upon the walls.

It seemed like a good idea at first, but the maddened goblins ended up tearing through a lot of orcs, goblins and snotlings and those that did make it to the wall were uselessly bashing at the stone, four of the fanatics managed to actually climb the siege towers. But of those four three destroyed the siege tower from the inside, then one managed to get to the top and it just got itself shot. The failed attack of with the fanatics had been the last straw and Warboss flew into a murderous rage.

He began slaughtering his way past his guards and when they got away he began slashing his way through his own army. Despite the slaughter he had begun to inflict, the Warboss grew even angrier as he drew closer to the wall; he swore to Gork & Mork that he would tear it down and mount the heads of every one of its defenders to a pike. Making his way to one tower which was being pushed forward, he began to slaughter his way past everything that stood in the way of his ascent.

Finally reaching the top he felt the tower connect and the bridge began to go down. He roared in fury and charged out, his first targets he saw were one of those orange crested dwarf slayers and an armored human.


Following the path of death and destruction caused by the Slayers, Vanyra had begun using the last of her firebombs to set the siege towers ablaze. The alchemical concoction within these particular bottles contained a highly combustible liquid which was said to burn as hot as dragon-fire. The siege towers were swiftly reduced to ashes as the fires burned and consumed the mostly wood and bone materials which held it. Seeing another Siege Tower about to connect, Vanyra lit the rag in her last bottle and was ready to throw until a meaty bloody green hand shot up from the pile of the dead and grabbed her left leg.

The orc gripped her upon the thigh and it tried to hold her still, she could see the stump of what was once its right arm uselessly flopping as it had been severed from below the shoulder, she could hear the orc growling at her as its red eyes glared balefully. Taking her sword out of her sheath she reversed the grip and brought the blade down upon the orc's face. She was then forced to severe its hand to get herself free from its grip.

Looking at the last siege tower, she saw it connect and out came a massive dark-skinned orc. Clad in dented thick plates and its back covered by a massive fur hide she instinctively knew this was the leader of the horde. Quickly throwing her last firebomb, she watched as the glass bottle flew over the parapets and the open air, to her surprise the bottle directly shattered against the Warboss.

The Warboss screamed hysterically as the intense flames consumed it. She could see its skin begin to char and turn to ash, its armor began to melt into a liquid form. The Warboss flailed about, setting the tower in flames before pitching off the side of the bridge. As the fire quickly began to spread to the rest of the siege tower, the defenders near it backed away as it soon collapsed from the intense heat.

Belegar glared at Vanyra who simply shrugged and tried to give the slayer an apologetic look. The dwarf snorted and spat blood upon the body of an orc before hefting his axe and moving to clear the rest of the wall, the Captain looked to Vanyra and gave an appreciative nod before going back to the fight as well. Surveying the rest of the area, she saw that there was still a lot of fighting going on across the walls.

With methodical precision the Imperials and the dwarves began clearing the rest of the Fortress walls from the remaining greenskins. No mercy was given, none was asked from the ancient enemy of both races. When the last orc was slain, the Imperials readied for another assault but they watched as internal strife began consuming the horde. Taking the time to reorganize what ranged troops remained, they fired volleys of arrows, crossbow bolts and explosives upon the greenskins with abandon. It was after nightfall that the greenskins began to retreat.


And so it was upon the ninth night of the battle for Fort Weichsen had been won. Nearly half the garrison of Imperial soldiers had been either injured or killed, Vanyra watched the two priests of Sigmar tend to the casualties, and from the corner of her eye she thought she saw a strange glow of golden light emanating from the two of them. Father Schultz told her that his flock will remain for now at the fortress to restore the damaged church to its full glory; he offered a blessing upon her and called her an Angel of War as well. Mentally calling the man an idiot she politely bid farewell and departed exhausted from the battles of the previous days.

Descending one of the guard towers, she noted the thick smell of burning tobacco, someone was smoking not far from her. Following the smell, she had found one of the slayers, Fimbur sitting upon a dead orc at the bottom of the wall; he was smoking a pipe with contented look as his left hand tightly clutched his belly. She could see that he was trying to prevent his guts from spilling out and she realized that along with the many other deep cuts into his body, he had lost too much blood.

'Heh, a good death it is my fair rinn' he said weakly when he noticed her, to her horror his right eye was gouged out along with the lid. 'Killed about kantuz I suppose' he then took a deep breath from his pipe and breathed out some smoke 'I suppose ye don't got some ale on ye?' he said with a cough.

Reaching for her belt she produced a water skin which she filled with ale, the slayer drank deep and grunted 'damn Innkeeper, I knew the Wattock was holding out.' Giving back the flask down he wiped the ale off of his beard then he looked to her and asked 'I thank ye lass, before I go what be the name of a pretty one like yourself?'

'Vanyra' she said solemnly 'Vanyra Skorrisdottir'

'A good name' replied the slayer weakly 'Well Vanyra Skorrisdottir, to Gazul's realm I go.' The slayer then rested his head upon the wall, he slowly breathed for a few moments and then finally he became still. Nodding in reverence, Vanyra knelt before the slayer's body and began whispering a prayer in Khazalid, she gave him last rites and felt a sense of sadness despite barely even knowing him.

'So the bugger is dead then' said a familiar deep voice. Looking to her right she saw the other slayer Belegar who was still bleeding from several wounds and beginning to look a bit pale himself. He gave a strange look that was mix of reverence and envy to the other slayer. He picked up the hammer which lay to the right of Fimbur and he muttered a quiet oath, behind him was the ranger Enlag, the two dwarfs also paid their respect to the dead slayer. Enlag spoke to Vanyra and promised her that Fimbur would get a proper burial.

The following morning across, the pass on the opposite side of the mountain wall where the greenskin dead were not as heavy. Vanyra looked down to the cairn which had been placed and carved with rhuns to signify who was buried under the pile stones stacked across it. She looked to her left to see Belegar, Enlag and surprisingly both the Innkeeper and his son pay their last respects. No words were passed among the dwarfs and each went their own ways, Vanyra saw both Enlag and Belegar go east back the way the orc army came and towards the Dwarf Realms. Why they left together she didn't bother asking for such was their own business. The Innkeeper and his son of course returned to the fortress, she noticed how Haakon gave her one last long look before he went after his father, she grinned with amusement.

Now continuing her quest and traveling west, she carefully looked to the three slips of paper the Captain had given her; at least the human had been true to his word. She gently guided Got's reins as she walked the pass, she took one last look east in the direction of Karaz-a-Karak as the sun rose across the mountains and bathing the world in a golden light.


Glossary

Ghal-Marraz – The Skull Splitter

Dawi – Dwarf

Umgi – Human

Urk- Orc

Grobi- Goblin

Thrund- Firearm

Got – Reliable

Nai- No

Krut- a disease contracted from goats with some horrific implications. Can also be used as a curse word.

Skuff- Drunken brawl

Rinn- A dwarf woman

Bryn- A type of shining gold

Hazkal – Ale brewed recently or fiery young warrior

Khazuk- A Warcry

Uzkul - Death

Wattock – an insult

Khazalid- the dwarf language

Karaz a Karak - Enduring Mountain, name of Dwarf Capital city

Kantuz - a Hundred

Rhuns - Runes