Article in the "Flug Revue"
The rise of the Zeppelin
Except for some very specialized applications, like tourist flights, the airship has been dead on Earth. On the Warhammer World it has flourished again to an amazing degree. There were several reasons for this, but the most important were the usual suspects: missions only this class of aircraft can do and available technology suitable for the application.
On Earth the airship lost importance once planes of sufficient payload and range were met by a surfeit of suitable airports. They were further hampered by the technology of the day which precluded the post-WW1 airships from gaining high attitudes or greater speeds. These are different days now and the airships meet so many needs.
There are only a few airports outside Germany, they can exist only where the railroads or modern shipping allow for their construction and resupply as planes are unable to carry the fuel for the round trip and need meter-thick concrete runways that have to be lovingly maintained. Ironically it is now the Zeppelin that hinders the airplane as the costs of a new airport have to be weighted against a not-so-long increase in flight time. A flight time, which should be added, that is spent in much greater comfort as the added space allows for amenities that make even Business-class travelers envy the economy-class passengers taking the airship.
For only a few flights per week it is very hard to justify building a costly airport just to save a few hours of flight and for once the Zeppelin is about to kill long-range civilian air transport.
So what giants currently grace the sky and which can we expect?
First of there are the NZ-Zeppelins, all of them developed from the few NT-airships build in Friedrichshafen before the Weltensprung. Ranging from 9000 m³ to 40000 m³ and driven by three to five diesel engines they are the workhorses of the airship fleet.
They deliver the freight, haul the passengers, perform SAR, do surveillance and even AEW, deliver medical teams to ships at sea and more besides. Nearly a hundred of them have been build during the last 6 years, tribute to the urgent needs and the Friedrichshafen factory.
Even bigger than them, by far, are the "Enterprise"-class airships. Starting at 200.000 m² and working their way up to 500.000 they are not so much a class of airships but a bunch of ships build around the same construction principles, engines and avionics. They were made possible by modern materials for the envelope, the wrap-around ballonet, the helium-scavenging techniques and sheer magic. Reducing the weight of the airships by one third has taken the payload of the ships nearly into hundreds of tons which makes them economically viable. They are build as quickly as Friedrichshafen can crunch them out and there is another production line coming up in Finkenwerder.
The Empire and the Dawi are joining the club of airship builders. The Slayers had already build one ship before the Weltensprung and the Nuln Aircraft Works are getting ready to release their line of small airships based on the "North Sea" class that controlled the waters around England in WW1. So the future seems bright for the airship, is there any dark cloud on the horizon?
Most would tell you no, but there is a rash of concepts for tilt-rotor planes that promise to make do without the airfields, there is the new A400L, the civilian version of the A400 transport which can take off from fields that could take a Zeppelin and plans for flying boats.
Yet will the airship builders surrender without a fight-hardly?.With the new hover landing system even the need for a mooring mast evaporates and new structural materials as well as the possibility of an electric drive mean there is so much more the airships can do.
Karak Azgal
The „airfield" of Karak Azgal one of the worst that Jörg Issleib ever had the misfortune to use. At 1500 meters, surrounded by high mountains and passes which produced unpredictable bursts and wedged between the stronghold`s walls and the edge of the plateau it was unusable but for helicopters, STOL planes and Airships. The hangars were very recent, erected hastily when the Karak started its campaign to recapture the levels below the hold, the same went for the airship mooring mast. As long as the fighting continued the airfield had been rather busy as the Reiksbund support had to be flown its contributions in, now it was comparatively quiet.
The pilot had finished the checks on his "Doppelstorch" and he had not received any notice that the diplomat that he had flown in would need his services any time soon. The twin-engine brother to the famous "Storch needed few maintenance and it had been done quickly. This would give him the time to have a look at the gaggle of planes that occupied the other half of the hangar. They looked like a throwback to another age: they were biplanes, with fixed landing gear and open cockpits. They were small and made even his "Doppelstorch" look like a big aircraft. Some things were clear about them right away: The radiator under the engine indicated a water-cooled engine, the exhaust ports hinted at a V-8 engine. And while the biplane configuration said different the lack of bracing wires and the relatively thick wings said they were more modern than their appearance would let him believe.
"Who are you manling?"
The gruff voice behind him was a surprise and when he turned he found a Dwarf clad in an oil stained overall and a belt with many tools attached.
"Sorry, did`t see you. I am Captain Jörg Issleib, I fly the diplomatic transport over there. Interesting planes there, I have never seen them before."
"Björn Steinier, I do a bit of customer service on these."
"Steinier, as in the Steinier, the Dawi who gave us the Rune of Flying?"
"The very same. So you think these are interesting?"
"Very much so. I think they are quite aerodynamic for a biplane-and is that an engine mounted cannon?"
"Yes, it is. There is a Heckler&Koch M2 between the cylinder banks, fires through the prop. Nobody makes synchronization gear these days, no other way."
"Who built them?"
"Captain Issleib, these are built by the Karak-al-Karaz Flyworks, the first fixed-wing planes, designed by me."
"Wow. Last I heard of you, you were working for Airbus and made Runes of Flying."
"I did till last year. I made the Runes, they taught me how to build a plane. I was going to work there a while longer, but then came the news from Karak-al-Karaz and I knew it was time to make these."
"Sorry, what news?"
"The news that the mechanics guild there made the first Dawi modern petrol engines. When I asked them they were willing to supply me with their Mk. 2 engines. A piece of here, a piece of there and then it just happened. Captain Issleib, you are looking at the Pursuit Special, the first of the V-8 interceptors."
"So this is all-Dawi?"
"Mostly-wings, fuselage, engine is all us. We have some German-supplied avionics, the machine gun and the wireless set."
"Wow, that was quick work then."
" Ha, old Fokker designed some planes in two weeks and build them in less than that. But I had a lot of help by enthusiasts and some of the best Dawi smiths and carpenters wanted in."
"I can believe that. Very well made, but allow me. Why a biplane."
"You are not the first to ask believe me, and I thought about it. But, this runway out there, that is already quite big for a Karak as most are in the mountains and their usual fly machines are Gyrocopters. If I did not want to bother with automatic slats and even more complicated flaps I needed a lot of wing area. Biplane means it is more compact and structurally more sound, when you work with wood that is an important consideration. They are not slow though, the wings have a nice profile to them, there are no wires and we streamlined all else."
"So what is it good for?"
"With the 400hp Mk2 engine nearly 300 kilometers per hour, two hours range and a ceiling of 6000 meters. If you fit a German-made turbocharger much higher."
"Nice, really."
"Well, it is no Typhoon but it gets the job done, at least this is what the seven think."
"The seven?"
"My first customers. There are still Dragons about here and some Wyrms. If you kill them Dawi law says you have a big dib at the hoard. So Thorin Oakshield and the others thought it a bright idea to buy my planes and go Dragon hunting here. Let's see how that works out.
By that time Issleib and Steinier were walking around the planes while the German had a good look at them. They were beautifully made, with seamless wooden construction, milled metal parts and everything just so. All planes had a colorful cartoon of a dwarf painted on their sides, what Jörg took for the pilots name and a nickname-or maybe the callsign above and a motto below.
"Thorin-Doc"
"Gloin-Grumpy"
"Fili-Happy"
"Kili-Sleepy"
"Balin-Bashful"
"Dwalin-Sneezy"
"Oin-Doozy"
"Hey Ho, Hey Ho, off to war we go"
"You know that most Dawi prefer to live below grounds and anybody who wants to fly is regarded as pretty strange already? Well, imagine how different a Dawi must be who is willing to go Dragon hunting in wooden airplanes which could stand some more testing by a newbie manufacturer."
"Now that you tell me…."
Deeper in The Karak, same time
A year before the room that held King Kargun Skalfson, his advisers and the German ambassador had been the scene of a pretty intense battle. A Goblin tribe had been sure that between their ambush and the dozens of fungi globes, their fanatics and their numbers they could beat the Dawi who wanted to retake their old domain.
A few years ago they would have been right, but assault rifles, machine guns and Gas Masks had turned that right into a bloody wrong. Ever since then the battle had moved far far below this level and the Dawi and their Reiksbund allies were sure that the recapture of the old Karak was a matter of when, not if. It had been a matter of pride to the Dawi denizens of Karak Azgal to restore the halls of their ancestors to their former glory. The furniture was brought in again, the defiled statues of long-dead hero`s mended and the murals refreshed, yet the small craters caused by high-velocity ammo had been left alone as a monument of the fight to retake it.
"I have to admit that I am intrigued Herr Worms, but not by the tale you spin. Do not get me wrong, I am not saying that you lie, just that I am amazed that you Germans have truck with the undead and actually believe the filth they spew. Really now, if the resting place of our Gods were here or even close? Karak Azgal would not have been the contested battlefield that it was for so many years, all the Dawi in the world would have come here and made sure that Valaya rests safely. This is a tale Ambassador, a take doubtlessly founded on the altar to the Goddess that is the mountains. We keep that altar dear Herr Worms, but there is no place where the real goddess rests. That she lies there and that opening her vault would usher a new golden dawn for all Dawi is just a myth to lift the hearts of those who despair of the fate that seemed so sure for us. A fate that you Germans have changed into something far better and more interesting. Do not get me wrong lad, you and your countrymen will always be welcome here. You have given us hope when there was none to be had, a means to achieve safety for our wives and children when strife was the only way of life that we knew.
And of course you have given us Warsteiner, which is a good thing in itself. Really now Ambassador, thank you for the warning, which I am sure you made in good faith, it has been heard. Now let us feast and celebrate the hope that you Germans brought."
It was much later on the next day, when the plane carrying the German ambassador had left the Karak for a few hours already that Kargan Ironbeard was summoned to the King`s chambers.
"Well met Kargan Ironbeard, your Thunderers have done well during the reclamation of the Karak. I hear you have fared well during the last weeks.
"Thank you my King. The clan has been very generous in praise and compensation. We have been able to make good on our losses and we have been able to repair the damage received in battle. The Angels will be glad to hear your praise."
"How soon can you ride in full strength then for a mission of two to three weeks?"
"Full strength in a week, but if we leave one crew and one ride behind then we can ride in two days."
"Well then, Kargan, I need your oath."
"Highness, I do not understand, you have it already for this campaign. What more do you need?"
"Your oath upon the ancestors that nothing that is discussed in this room will ever leave your lips and that no details of this mission will ever be heard in the halls of Dawi and men."
"My word is my oath my King. Upon the honor of my ancestors I swear this."
"I accept your oath Kargan Ironbeard. Have you heard about Valaya`s Archway?"
"Who has not? The Gods Grungi and Valaya are said to sleep the long sleep behind these gates and when they wake up it will usher the second Golden Age. A tale to keep up the falling spirits."
"Yes, that is what we would like people to believe. Unfortunately this is no tale and guarding the archway is the most sacred duty of Karak Azgal. We have tried to protect the archway by secrecy, but this may have failed. I need your Thunderers to scout the passages under the Dread Pass and soon."
World`s edge mountains
The Red River valley had been carved by the stream that ran through it via many millenia. The stream originated in an area with lots of iron deposits which colored the waters in something like dried blood. High mountains hemmed in both sides of the valley, yet they looked far more substantial then they were. Limestone, dolomite and gypsum could be shaped with the most primitive tools and water would carry it away after mere centuries. A labyrinthine array of drainage channels, rock gardens, tunnels and caves characterized the areas close to the valley's walls while the middle of it was a mostly green strip of vegetation that bordered the river.
The river still had ice floes inside and white patches of snow still covered parts of the ground. A few animals tried to eek their sustenance from the uncovered parts, but apart from that everything was empty. A Stag watched the surroundings, always watchful for predators. Suddenly its head came up watching for what had made the sounds that a human would not have heard before sprinting off.
A minute more went by before the first beings that had produced that sound stepped into view. They were small and green, having heads one size too big for their scrawny bodies, crooked limbs and green skin. Huge ears tried to take in any sound, huge eyes blinked at the bright light of the day. At first there were only a few, clutching short bows and spears. Then came the spider riders who guided their nightmare rides into the middle of the valley and then fanned out.
Several tunnel openings and smaller valley disgorged a wave of green then, clad in moldy leather, threadbare garments and rusty armor. They squabbled as they marched, they stumbled at the brightness they quarreled at each other and they marched. At least some of them did, directed by bosses that rode around on giant spiders and ruled by high-pitched voices and applied violence.
When the Goblins had made enough space the next wave emerged from the depths. No arms and armor on them, no matter how rusty and badly-maintained. They brought tools, they pulled ramshackle carts they carried loads on their backs.
They were no warband, no green tide to threaten the realms of man, they were the cobblers and cooks, the weavers and farmers.
Skarsnik watched it all from above, his spider had climbed the valley`s wall. It took so long and despite his impatience he knew this was as fast as his tribes could move. The exodus took hours and when it was finished it covered the valley`s floor. It was noon before the first movement in the right direction could be observed and Skarsnik knew that there would bee only a few hours left in the day. His horde would move at a snail`s pace but it would move away from certain doom.
It was the day after that that the small speck appeared in the sky and started to go in circles. It would remain there for hours and before it went it was replaced by another.
Mouth of the Red River Valley
Uli Hemnir saw the first love of his life drive by, altered and abused but he did not care. The venerable M101 105 mm guns that he commanded during the Siege of the Quarry and the Battle of Altdorf were no more. Instead of resting on their carriages as proper artillery should they had been stripped of most parts and had found a new home and a different purpose.
Once Wolf`s Dragoons` Black Widow company had a couple of light tanks at their disposal. They combined "Puma" turrets with M113 hulls and had proven their mettle more than once. They had been sent to far-off Skavenblight as part of the Tilean Corps and few had returned when they had been pitted against the Horned Rat itself. The survivors had gone to the 1st Landwehr and left the Dragoon`s without direct fire support.
Mercedes-Benz had been an unlikely contender to fill that gap, yet the car- and truck maker was in dire search for new markets. They had taken the famed Unimog truck chassis and moved components around till the driver sat beside the engine. This had freed a lot of space behind him, a space that Mercedes had armored against small arms. A variety of low-cost armaments were available, from a simple heavy machine gun and space for soldiers, via a quadmount of 0.50 machine guns to a turret that housed Uli Hemnirs former 105 mm pieces. They were a far cry from the old light tanks in terms of armor, cross-country mobility and sophistication but far more affordable and much easier to maintain. Mercedes hoped to sell a great lot of them to the Empire and maybe excite the Landwehr about them.
Four of the cannon-armed ones ones, a duo of quadmounts and a few APCs formed the Black Widow`s Battalion, led by a red-haired German called Nathan Kerensky.
Impressive as they were the Wolf`s biggest hammer was commanded by Major Hemnir. The dour dwarf had taken a shine for artillery during the Siege of the Quarry, had taken a commission with the Dragoon`s later on and had been content with his battery of 105`s till Mercedes made their offer. It was such a good offer that Uli forgot that the universe hated him for a few days and even he could be heard singing the praises of his new weapons. They were made to make good a mistake.
Germany had donated a couple of decommissioned FH70 howitzers in 2012 to the Empire, including the necessary munitions. They were good guns with an impressive rate of fire, good range, absolutely devastating destructive powers and were quite sophisticated. They were also weighting eight tons apiece, had an auxiliary engine that could drive it to a blistering 15 kilometers per hour and had far more range than an army without wireless sets and range finders could use. They were an absolute bitch to transport on the Empires bad roads. There was a reason why the Empire had gone for the M101 pieces with much greater enthusiasm.
Mercedes had taken the guns, ditched the carriages and mounted them to the rear of one of their 6x6 Unimogs, making them mobile and allowing for the transport of crew and ammo. Uli Hemnir could rain 50-kilogram sized packages of death on any place in a circle of 30 kilometers around his guns, he would not run out of ammo and he could go to war sitting down. Life was surprisingly good.
75 Kilometers from Archway of Valaya, far below the surface.
Kargan Ironbeard was alone in the darkness, trying to make sense from the many sounds that were around him. He was not surrounded by honest rock, the darkness around him was made up by a mixture of soft minerals that yielded easily to the coaxing of water and abrasion. The mountain around him was pierced by tunnels and caves like cheese. The many streams of water that cut all these was trickling from ceilings, murmured when it ran through channels it had cut into the floor and thundered down the waterfalls that led to ever-deeper caverns and chasms.
The false rock around the dwarf was moving also constantly trying to find its balance that was forever undermined by the abrasion inside. Creaks, groans and rumbles could be heard as well as felt when the vibrations transmitted themselves through the rock. The difference between the arrival of vibrations and sounds told the Dawi a lot about his surroundings, even when the heartbeat that thundered in his ears threatened to drown that vital info.
There should have been other sounds, the clicking of small claws on rock, the grinding of beings that burrowed through rock, the yelps of prey and the triumphs of small predators. An hour ago Kargan had heard these sounds, then they had muted to nothing. At the same time a faint vibration had permeated the rock and grown in intensity ever since.
And now the first sounds could be heard, a bit like the impacts of iron-hard wood on rock, at first a few and now many. The green and black shapes that swam in and out of Ironbeard`s vision still told him nothing but something was definitely ahead.
And then there was a click in his ear, a sound transmitted by air only for the last few millimeters.
His fingers gripped the plastic stock of Bessie tighter and Kargan reminded himself that he would never be alone as long as his shotgun was around. He shifted his grip and pressed a handle twice, pushing a current through a wire.
For an eternal moment nothing seemed to happen and then a glow was quickly grew into the stark flickering whiteness of several magnesium flares. Before the Dawi a huge cavern loomed, easily bigger that the assembly hall that graced the recently reconquered Karak Azgal. It walls and ceiling held the smooth organic look that hinted at the waters that excavated it. The ground could not be seen as it was covered with the undead as far as the Dawi could see.
Animated skeletons that were protected by rusty armor held together by creaking dry strips of leather, skeletons that carried moldy shields, pitted sword edges and rotten spear shafts. Skeletons who had an unearthly light in the depths of their eye sockets, that might have a shambling gait but who marched forward like an unstoppable avalanche.
Kargan`s grip shifted forward on his shotgun and he lifted the barrel fractionally higher. The dull "thump" that came from the stubby barrel under his "Bessie" was not very impressive, the cloud of red phosphorous that descended on the undead much more so. Fire sprung up wherever the cloud settled and dense smoke hid whatever happened behind it. Pulling his weapon against his shoulder more tightly the dwarf pulled the trigger 10 times, releasing deadly clouds of pellets that smashed everything in their way. It was devastating to the targets, dropped the skeletons he had targeted where they stood and sometimes another one behind them. It had about the same effect than trying to stop a wildfire by pissing into it. The gaps he tore into the undead mass were closed within seconds and the speed of the undead did not slow any. Taking the time to reload his underbarrel launcher and ramming a new magazine into his shotgun he walked back wards while pressing a button on his wireless repeatedly.
He shot another incendiary round into the cave`s mouth before walking back into the tunnel. A deep rumbling and the smells of burned fuel told him that Fagrim had received his signal and started their motorcycle. Hopping into the sidecar he punched the driver on his should who promptly took off. On level ground the ride would have been slow, inside the tunnel, lit only by the Dnepr`s single lamp the retreat seemed like a reckless plunge into a bottomless dark.
They had covered maybe half a kilometer when more undead appeared in the headlight, backed up by something like a scorpion made from bones. Kargan pulled the trigger on his machine gun and the bullets splintered the skeletons easily enough but the scorpion was another matter. It was a good thing that the old motorcycle had a reverse gear as Fagrim had to reverse while Ironbeard did his best to keep concentrate his long bursts into one spot. In the end enough bullets hit the spine to drop the scorpion`s head remains but both dwarfs spend a terse minute pulling the remains out of the way so they could drive by it. By that time the sounds of more bones coming their way were urgent.
Farim drove to the rally point at a speed that could only be called sane by what was behind them. There was no happy reunion there, but a hasty foray into another tunnel. Kargan and two other crews managed to blast a way through more undead just to find that that their number six crew had been overwhelmed. The modern weapons carried by the Dawi managed an utter slaughter of the undead up to the point where the undead had to move the remains of their predecessors away so they could close with the enemy.
Kargan fumbled another grenade in its launcher when he realized that he yawning for the umpteen time. Fuck.
"Back on the rides Angels, we head for then rally point." The blackened faces under the coal-scuttle helmets looked at him in incomprehension.
"I say we ride Angels, there is no ventilation here."
Now that got the attention of the oxygen-starved Dawi just fine, this was something they had been taught about before they could walk. Dawi Karaks, their mines and even Skaven or Grobi underground dwellings were usually well-ventilated. These cavers were not and they might be breathing air trapped in here when Grimmnir was still walking on the world. Both the Dawi themselves and their rides consumed the precious oxygen at a nasty rate. Only combat and the need to settle the grudge had made them forget this for any length of time.
Undefeated they still had to mount their Dneprs and as long as they were still able to do so.
The remaining Thunderers spent a lot of ammo on revenge before they had to retreat. That retreat proved to be a nightmare as any side tunnel could spill undead at any time. Expending ammo like mad and driving as if hell itself chased them they managed to retreat down the tunnels to the depot they had left kilometers behind. They barely got the time to reload and restock before the first Skeletons triggered the mines they had left behind. They had to destroy some supplies they could not load in time and then drove back to a surface that would give them the opportunity to use their wireless sets.
Inside the World`s Edge Mountains
The cavern had been used by Dawi, a long time ago, when they paused here on their way to the hell called Zharr-Naggrund. When they had abandoned it for their trek through the Dark Lands they had still been Dawi, if desperate ones. When they had left greenskins of various kinds had used it and the tunnels adjacent to it for their short lives full of violence, treason and filth. When the DawiZharr decided to take the World`s Edge mountains for themselves they had retaken the underground refuge with a combination of ruthless charges and modern weapons.
Now they were the railhead for the atmospheric railroad that led from ZharrNaggrund all the way through the Dark Lands to the eastern Edge of the mountain range. The caverns had been cleaned of the worst filth by their former owners who now worked to supply their betters as was right and proper.
Lord Hrothgar could still smell the filthy Goblins and see the defilements they had wrought, yet this place was on its way to become a proper outpost for the DawiZharr and it would receive the blessings of Hashut sooner or later.
The cavern he was currently in was one of the smaller ones, a few dozen meters across at best. It had been spruced up with the banners of the units that were in the theater and a map that supposedly showed the area of operations.
Lord Gholam had taken the stage and was still in the ritual part of the meeting.
"We who have been tested by the trek through the Dark Lands, we who have subjugated the lesser races, we who have mastered the fire below, we who have received the gifts of the Warp, we who have received the blessings of Hashut, we are here today. Warriors of Hashut, hear me and obey.
We have been given a mission like no DawiZharr before. We are not to raid, not to destroy and taking slaves is just a minor issue. We need to conquer, not raid, we need to secure, not spoil. The very existence of the DawiZharr is in danger and we need to secure new lands to grow the food we can eat and feed our slaves.
We face lesser enemies as all enemies of the DawiZharr are lesser, but they are many as we are few. They are cowardly, craven, treacherous and many. They are armed with wooden bows and armored with weak leather where we wield weapons like none we have been to the DawiZharr before. We are mighty and bold and none will stand in our way.
Lords, this valley that is the target of our operation. It has many Ar of arable land, reliably irrigated by a river and is rich in iron ore. It used to be inhabited by several Goblin tribes which we want to work on our fields, yet the cowards run from our might. Yet they are to incompetent to achieve even that as they cover only a few kilometers every day. If we use the tunnels here and here we can overtake the greenskins and block them.
Lord Hrothgar, you are to take your 2nd regiment through these tunnels with all haste. Keep close contact with me through the mages as we need to coordinate well.
The rest of the division will assemble in these caves here and we will exit into the valley at the same time. If we do this right then the Goblins will be caught between our forces. When they see our might they will loose heart and we will not have to kill them all.
