Cathay, 700 Kilometres north fo Nanjiang Bezahltag 17. Sigmarszeit

Areta Bane slumped wearily on the shotgun seat of her Unimog. She had indeed brought the refugees to safety. She had slept for nearly 24 hours and getting up had been as hard as anything she had ever done in her life. Her movements had resembled those of a human of 80 years and there was no part of her that did not hurt in one way or another. When she needed nearly 10 minutes to put on her boots she dry-swallowed two Ibuprofen, two caffeine tablets and chased them up with a granola bar. It allowed her to function on a basic level while the Bertwort seemed to burn a hole in her breast pocket.
She avoided it and an hour later she let a disgustingly alert-looking Cheng drive her to the resupply point. It was an area close to one Cathay`s many channels and a couple of hastily erected pontoons allowed a virtual army of Cathayan to offload the many things that the Wild Geese would need to continue the fight.

She could see how important this was from the fact that she caught a glimpse of Captain Schwarz, the head of the mercenary`s log train trying to impose order upon chaos and nearly succeeding. Her combat group drove past long rows of fuel barrels, of boxes of all description and larger equipment that was protected by tarpaulins. Areta`s combat group was guided to an open spot and her people joined forces with the workers to gather resupply while she talked to Manfred Richter, her old boss from the days in Naggaroth.

"Your reports tell the same story than the other combat groups. The new brand of Nurglies can be fought most effectively with fire. Your group will get new ammo for the rifles and the light machine guns, has a bit of phosphorous in there. They are frangible and should burn inside the fraggers. We`ll give you all the Willy Pete 120 mm shells for the mortars that we can spare, but the really good news is that you`ll get new machine guns for your trucks."
"What can they do better."
"Somebody gifted us a load of H&K 0.50 heavy machine guns. They will rip them a new one, a big one. But ammo takes much more space than the 8mm for the Maxim, you have to be a bit choosy."
"Missing is not a problem with them Sir, lack of ammo might be. I have seen them and it is like the ground before you starts to move. They are so many that I cannot count them, it is as if the whole Province of Nanjiang is on the march."
"A very large part is as far as we know."

Suddenly something darkened the sun that had so far shone on the mercenaries. Areta Bane looked up and an idea started to form in her mind.

San Luis, Estelia same time

The tavern was catering to seafarers and as such had seen many different and strange customers over the years. The large groups at the table closest to the windows still drew lots of gazes. The Norscans that made the bulk of the group had become more usual sight during the last years and their arrival no longer meant that the City Guard was placed on alert.

Their ship that was moored in sight of the tavern was talked about as it was a type not seen before, a sailship with rakish lines and a size that was not possible for something made of wood. Sait Luis had seen the strange ships by the Germans before, they were clearly magic even if their crews insisted that this wasn`t so. This ship seemed to be what the Estelian seamen dreamed about, something that they could understand but that would give them opportunities beyond their wildest dreams. The crew was full of tall tales and told of a trip around the world in a bit over two years. Clearly unbelievable, wasn`t it.

Any sailor who would have sprouted such nonsense would normally have been called liar, but the hulking figure of the Norscans made that a dicey preposition anyway and the sight of the Windjammer "Köln" made it nearly believable.

But wasn`t what drew the gazes to the group presently, it were the two women who shared the table with the Norscan sailors. The tavern`s patron could not place them at all. They did not have the torque that would denote their marriage yet their clothing did not make them harlots anyway. And when one looked past the obvious and rather distracting things one found the two to have rather well-defined musculature and their hands had callus like one would expect from sailors who handled the coarse ropes that ruled a ship`s rigging. Very very strange, but still enticing to look at.
The women wore a mixture of clothing styles, very much adapted to the hot and muggy evening. They revealed a lot of bronzed skin and a figure men usually dream about. Their faces were nice as well and while these mystery women were no harlots the barmaids speculated they might wear some makeup but of a type they had never seen before.

The wine tasted like nothing Andrea Hermanns had ever tried before. It wasn`t really bad but some things in the taste should probably not belong to a wine. She had already learned that most wines in this world were far more dry when what she was used to and the locals made up the perceived deficiency in a number of ways. Very often fruits and sugar were added, some herbs and sometimes garlic. Forcing herself to stop speculating she lifted the jug again to toast to Lars, the sailor whom she had saved from drowning who lifted his huge stein to the smoky ceiling.

"To the fastest ropemonkey that ever climbed the main mast."
"To the best looking ropemonkey Köln will ever have."

The hand that slapped her shoulder was hard enough that it seemed to be carved from hardwood. Her own hands were far from that but used to far more abuse than ever before in her life. Andrea Hermanns had been taken up by the crew in ways totally unthinkable when they set sail to the cruise around the world. Together with two other students who were willing they had been taught the ways of the Windjammer, how to work the many stays and the running rigging. She had experienced a decided lack of rest for while trying to balance her research with learning her new skills together with pain in muscles that she did not even knew she had. Whatever fear of heights she once may have had was very much gone by now and she had some of the most exhili9arating moments of her life 40 meters above the deck of the Windjammer at Beaufort 8.

Some of the sailors had also taken her "Shield Maiden" fibula seriously and had shown her the use of the knife that currently rested at her belt. That training had added a collection of bruises and more muscle pain with the reward being even more respect from a crew that worshiped physical fitness and willingness to train hard.
When she set the jug back on the table she found that that last drink had brought her to the point where a visit to the latrine could no longer be delayed. She wrinkled her nose at the prospect, the local outhouses were badly lacking in practically everything but filth and stink. Well, no point in waiting longer. Pushing herself up from the bench she waved a hand at the jokes that inevitably followed. She made her way through the smokey room, happy that she did not sway yet and pushed herself through the drapes that barred the way into the tavern`s yard.

She stopped for a minute to give her eyes time to adjust to the gloom and then carefully picked a course through the yard towards the half-seem half-smelled latrine. She was nearly there when she heard the rustling behind her. She was still trying to understand what that meant when an arm clamped down on her neck while a stinking breath laced with alcohol assaulted her nose.
"Puta, te fastidas" made no sense to her but the hand that ripped at her breasts did. She clawed at the arm that threatened her breath for a moment before her training set in. Her heel hammered on the attacker`s foot while she turned in his grip till she more or less faced her. A hand with outstretched fingers went for the man`s eyes and connected sufficiently that he released his grip. She stumbled backwards a meter before finding her balance again, turned and and towards the tavern`s entrance. She collided with something very solid before she had made more than three steps. She nearly dropped to the ground when a big hand caught her and pulled her up again. By that time two men brought lanterns into the yard so she could see that "Köln`s" sailors must have heard something. She looked into the face of boatswain Arnulf who looked at her torn blouse for a second and said nothing. He just raised an eyebrow.

Andrea understood him just too well and for a second froze where she was. She could see two paths before her, one that she knew and one that frightened her. She drew a ragged breath that reminded her of the bruise that the would-be rapist stranglehold would certainly leave and that sent her down one of the paths. She simply nodded and turned back into the now dimly-lit yard.
She had not been a victim assaulted her and she would not start being now. She watched while the sailors cleared a bit of ground in the middle of the yard, watched as they threw the drunken asshole into the circle they formed with their bodies and stepped inside that circle while drawing her knife.

Time seemed to come to a near stop then and there, she was, felt and heard all around her with an intensity that was nearly painful. She had enough time to think that she was probably no longer fit to live in a civilized society any more and wondered if that was the case for her country as well when she lunged forward to go for the rapists arm. She shouldn`t have worried, she found herself to be satisfied with first blood, well nearly so.

Empire 2528

It had only been a rather short time since the Army of Light, the youngest Knightly Order of the Empire, had been founded. But still, its influence was rapidly increasing, at an alarming speed for certain groups. At some point, the grandmasters of five other orders decided that something had to be done to teach these pesky newcomers their rightful place within the power structure within the Empire.

These orders had bled during the past centuries, ensuring the integrity and power of the Empire, and they were not willing, to give up even a little power only because their proven ways for the Great Game had been indirectly been declared outdated. Very cautiously they began to probe other orders and some more secret factions within the Empire about their relationships and opinions about the Army of Light. They knew that they would only get this one chance to either integrate the Army of Light into the existing hidden power structure within the Empire or to make sure it would no longer pose any threat to them.
They might had been successful with their plans, if not for the premature actions of one of the conspiring orders:

The Order of the Black Bear, having distinguished itself in many battles against the Undead of Sylvania and the Orcs, had been humiliated. For several years, actions against Sylvania had been prohibited, as the benefits of cooperation with these sinners had been more advantageous than the call of justice that demanded their eradication. Bitterly, the order had to accept these new Imperial directives. When the Empire decided to implement military reforms to introduce German strategies, tactics and technologies, the order declined its participation as they would stand by their traditions. They would comply if ordered to fight side-by-side with soldiers, but they would remain warriors.

But when a larger group of riders, that were undergoing the sophisticated procedures to finally be accepted as true members of the Order of the Black Bear, decided to revoke their admission and would instead associate itself with the Army of Light, the order felt humiliated, it felt betrayed.
Without further consultations with their co-conspirators, the Black Bears handled the situation in the traditional way, unaware that this would ultimately lead to the dissolution of their order by Imperial decree. The Empire would remember this ordeal as Black Bear Revolts, while the annals of the Army of Light would call it the Ascension Trial.

Still at the same day that the riders had revoked their admission, a large contingent of Black Bear warriors visited the small village that was home of the riders. It lay only hours away from their headquarters near Averheim. In the past, this proximity eased many procedures. It would also ease up the annihilation of the riders. Unknowing the real intent of the warrior contingent, the villagers welcomed the Black Bears as they wanted to leave without any bad blood between them and the order, showing them their continuing respect. The Black Bears left one hour later, after having slaughtered all life within the village.

Normally, such a massacre would be answered with a few harsh remarks of other orders and some Imperial scolding to uphold the facade of justice, but in the end, nothing more would come out of it. Their honor would had been restored. But this time things were different. The Black Bears also killed two AoL emissaries that had been guests in the village when the massacre happened. They were also killed, but before that they were able to send video material of the massacre to their headquarters, as they had with them one of the precious smartphones that allowed coordination between headquarters and emissaries on short notice.

The Black Bears planned to adequately prepare the dead emissaries and then send them to the new headquarters of the Army of Light near Birkewiese, acting as final warning to never again encroach on Black Bear territory. This was the course their honor and traditions dictated. But the dead emissaries would never be sent away as events unfolded way to fast for the order that clung so much to the old ways.

As soon as the sun rose at the horizon of Birkewiese, Treumark began with a massive public relations offensive. The evidence of the massacre was distributed through all available media in the Empire, sent to the other smartphone holders of the order, brought to newspapers and the few radio stations of the Empire by the fastest couriers. It was one thing to hear that a defiant village had been extinguished from the map, but to really hear the screams and pleas of women, the laughing warriors while slaughtering them all was completely different. The Army of Light portrayed the entire event as an attempt to quell the new found freedom that had arrived the common public since the arrival of Germany in this world. The only sin of the dead villagers had been their decision to decide for themselves.

Of course, the Reiksbund had also been informed about the matter. Sadly, an initial delay made it impossible to stop the propaganda machine before it had geared up. The Army of Light had been too preoccupied to prepare for the worst. Because before the information had been sent out, the order had used the entire night to implement the emergency plans they had been working on since the moment they knew that the day would come that the other orders would attack them openly:

Building on the hope that their enemies would still not have incorporated the lessons about the advantages of real-time communications and rapid response tactics, all branches and outposts were warned before the enemy could completely mobilize and begin to act. Each of them possessed at least one smartphone and the standing order to make sure that there always had to be someone ready to receive calls. Regular tests made sure that the branches would follow this directive.

Smaller outposts were ordered to evacuate to larger holding, which in turn were ordered to lock down and prepare for enemy ambushes. Non-combat personnel or just associated civilians in larger towns were ordered to disperse and keep their distance to the order until everything was over.

As a large percentage of battle-worthy personnel of the Army of Light was stationed in Kislev, either assisting in the railroad construction along the Lynsk river or preparing training and supply bases for the coming Northern Campaign, one of the first calls connected to the Army of Light emissary at the Frozen Court. The Tzarina was to be informed that the order might come under direct attack by other Knightly Orders, and as such, it needed to move much of its troops back to the Empire.
Other calls went to Germany, to the various groups receiving teaching by the Bundeswehr or other organizations.

All in all, the Army of Light was preparing itself for a potential war, as they could not know if this had only been an early skirmish or the opening stage for something larger. While they could not hope to withstand the combined might of the established orders if they would get serious, they were ready to hold out long enough until the public opinion in Empire, Kislev and Germany would lean towards the attacked victim that was the Army of Light, leading to some kind of intervention.

At noon, most of the larger cities in the Empire and the whole of Germany knew about the rider massacre and the implied opinion that this was only the beginning of massive actions against the Army of Light. The Reiksbund tried to calm down the situation, but only with meager success. AoL branches hunkered down, with barricaded windows and armed guards that made sure to keep clear the vicinity. The city folks became nervous as they feared similar actions as they had seen in the movies that had been publicized about the Battle of Middenheim and the campaign against Skavenblight.

The initial co-conspirators of the Order of the Black Bear quickly realized that now was not the correct time to act, and as such decided to simply stand back, observe and adjust their plans as needed while closely examining the reactions of the Army of Light. As other groups misunderstood the initial action and overestimated its scale, several smaller ambushes happened against smaller AoL holdings, confirming their fears and thwarting German plans to portray the situation as a single misunderstanding without further hidden meaning.

On the second day, with several additional smaller incidents in or near AoL holdings, the Empire was forced to explain the situation as internal matter and a direct dispute between the Black Bears and the Army of Light. This was to prevent the image that the nation was standing on the verge of a potential civil war with at least several Knightly Orders planning armed actions to rob the public its enlarged amount of freedom. This in reverse forced the Order of the Black Bear to take a clear position in this affair. They only had planned to issue a warning to the Army of Light, no open confrontation. But their grandmaster saw no way to back down without their order losing face. As he also knew that there would be no glory in the battle that was being forced on them, he chose to take responsibility.

He and his council was to take the responsibility and blame for issuing ambivalent orders that had been misunderstood by the warrior contingent, resulting in the massacre. But as a group of hardliners couldn't accept this, as it might protect the honor of the order itself, it was against the entirety of their traditions to back down in fear from any enemy. As such, they killed the traitorous grandmaster and his council, ready to lead their order to its demise as long as it would be in accord with their beliefs and traditions. They used a group of Imperial and German diplomats arriving at the Black Bear headquarters in Averheim to announce their position:

Honor demanded to solve the matter with an open battle, throwing in the entire might of both orders. The victorious order would be in the right. The Black Bears have never fled an enemy and they would rather all die instead of backing down. As compromise as the Army of Light has been the challenged, it could choose time and location of the battle.
With this statement, the Black Bears confirmed the Imperial position that this was a simple dispute between the two orders, robbing the copycats of their reason. As result, no further attacks against AoL holdings happened.

While everyone in the Empire knew that only one order would survive the demanded battle—no order would ever again be taken serious that would lose in battle on purpose—especially the German diplomatic corps tried its best to find a smaller scale solution to the problem.

The Army of Light accepted the challenge. Five days after the challenge, they would attack the Black Bear border fortress on the borders of Averland with everything they had. During the staging phase, the public would soon learn about the military assets the Army of Light had obtained since its founding, as reporters and camera teams were invited to display some these assets in great detail.

* The Tzarina had allowed the order to relocated about seventy percent of its combat units from Kislev, sending them home with one of the treasures that Kislev had obtained for the coming Northern Campaign. It was a heavily armored train, inspired by the hammer train, equipped with enough weaponry to make any ambush a foolish decision. Painted in ice blue and with large Kislevite crests on both sides the train was an impressive appearance as it crossed the border to the Empire.

* In Germany, the paratrooper training was suspended, as all participants were recalled for the coming battle. They boarded their transport planes, not as impressive as the machines of the Luftwaffe, but more than enough to bring them to their destination.

* Also in Germany, three smaller and one bigger zeppelins were taken from their depots. Planned as mobile base of operations, recon station and bomber force they would play an important role against the Black Bears that only knew to fight on the ground.

* Several other, less visible units were also recalled. Among others there were members of an assassin guild that saw the Army of Light as logical next step and wanted to be on the side of the winner.

Former Black Bear Border Fortress, one week later

The grandmasters of the other conspiring orders had been invited by the Army of Light to personally investigate the results of the challenge, to make sure that nobody would question it in the future. Technology and tactics had ensured an overwhelming victory for the Army of Light. Wherever the Black Bears had reached their positions, they had acted like berserks, but even then the outcome had already been clear at the moment the Army of Light had mobilized all of their assets.

The few surviving Black Bears, mostly some elderly too old to fight on the battleground, had requested the emperor to dissolve their order. After accepting their requests, they all committed suicide to join their comrades in death as their last duty had been completed.

Right now, the grandmasters were walking through the still smoking ruins of the once proud bastion. They remained silent for the most time, as they were deep in thought. Was it coincidence that only the conspiring grandmasters had been invited into this group? Grandmaster Huss had invited them personally, showing them the respects they had deserved for their position and the kind of invitation it was. And knowing Huss, he was the most dangerous when he acted this respectful and friendly towards others.

Seeing the amount of destruction, they already knew that the Army of Light was not to be underestimated anymore. But it was the eyes of the AoL soldiers guarding them that told them the most. There was the unmistakable mixture of fear and religious fervor. These men and women (!) did not only follow orders, but were fighting, killing and dying because they believed in what they did. It was this quality all of them sought from the members of their own orders. The Army of Light was different, it did not follow many traditions of the Knightly Orders, but its fist and heart was unmistakably that of a Knightly Order.

The Army of Light had taken casualties and many wounded, but already now veteran soldiers inspected the battleground, talked with the participating soldiers, eager to learn where and how to improve their capabilities.

Below Birkewiese, an additional week later

Three people had gathered in the deepest cave, hidden deep below the still growing fortress city that would become the center of the Army of Light. There was only one way to this cave, riddled with traps that would be activated as soon as present people would leave this place. Two sarcophagi made from obsidian had been embedded into the back of the cave. In this cave, the Army of Light would hide one of its greatest secrets, so even if the members might never learn about the many sacrifices that had been made for their good, the order itself would never forget it.

The left sarcophagus had already been closed. Its lid boasted the crest of the Order of the Black Bear. It contained the burned remains of the former grandmaster of the Black Bear. Everything had happened as he had anticipated it. He had seen his order declining. Its strict and inflexible traditions had protected it in the past, but made it unable to cope with the future. It would had awaited decades of irrelevance until it would disappear, replaced by new means, new traditions. Nobody would know about the noble sacrifices his order had taken upon itself to help form a better future for the Empire. Because the grandmaster had trusted in his friend Huss as he said that the Army of Light would forever serve the Empire as its first priority.

The right sarcophagus was still open. An elderly stout man with otherwise unremarkable face lay in it. He had been the grandmaster of a hidden cabal that had been founded during the days of Sigmar. They were to protect the Empire from itself, making sure that rivalry and envy would never threaten the integrity of the Empire itself. His cabal had the intelligence network allowing the Army of Light to foresee the impending threat. While the cabal would remain hidden and neutral, it would assist the Army of Light, as it offered the opportunity to partake in forming the future without interfering with the century old traditions of the established orders, and their very sensible instincts to sense outer influences. To make sure that the Army of Light would put trust in the cabal, the grandmaster, as the only one from the cabal knowing the entire truth of the affair within the cabal, offered to die in this cave. His successor had already been instructed to cooperate with the AoL Just minutes ago he had cut his throat, while whispering his final words: For Sigmar.

Luthor Huss and Torben Treumark looked each other into the eyes after they had closed the lid of the right sarcophagus, bearing the secret crest of the cabal. It had been Treumark, whose remark that the order needed a first major military success to solidify its standing with the other Knightly Orders that set the ball rolling. Both of them knew what damage the order would take when this secret would some day be revealed. That all the successes it would gain in the future where based on such a lie.

It was a danger, but also a precaution. Because even if the beliefs of the Army of Light would never waver as long these two men were alive, it was unknown what their successors would do. So this secret would remain within a small chosen group tasked with the duty to observe the order and make sure it will never be corrupted.

It was only a question of time until the Northern Campaign would finally begin. Kislev was about to issue its mobilization to provide the military assets for the first phase of operations. Having displayed its military might and having received Imperial backing, the AoL would not have to fear backstabbing in the Empire for the imminent future. And after its major victory, it would be easier to gather the amount of volunteers for the campaign that they would need.

The entire affair had also given the last needed stimulus to persuade the Empire to accept one of the stranger suggestions of the AoL: Jail and death sentences could also be converted into service in the Northern Campaign. This would free space in prisons, hopefully gather individuals with special skills that could not cope with normal laws and offer troops that were more expendable than others.

Ulthuan, 200 kilometers north-west of Lothern

The bush was nothing but ordinary. Its leaves were exactly the same than those around it, the twigs were arranged in a similar manner and the only movement that could be seen was what the wind applied. The only thing that an observer could find curious was the log that struck from it which seemed to have fallen in an unusual way.

When Dirk Zimmermann had introduced the Ghillie suit to the Shadow Warriors of Naggarythe even these hardened guerrilla fighters had been impressed. Aeolus smiled when he had been taught about them during his sniper`s course and his fellow students had one of these "why did we not think about that" moments. Everybody could understand why the true elves could not make sniper rifles presently but there was simply nothing about the suit with the many straps that allowed to fasten twigs, grass and foliage to oneself that the Asur could not have made. It had simply never occurred to them.

Aeolus talent for camouflage was not tested presently as he was very much alone on the small hill that overlooked the battlefield below. The lore that Dirk Zimmermann had taught was that there had to be two of them, one observer and one sniper as looking through a scope was like trying to watch a soccer game through a straw. As he was going to battle as a part of the House Ethelorne Militia who very much fought the traditional way there was no such observer to be had. He had enjoyed the comradeship of his clan immensely, he had missed that a lot during the last years. That the Phoenix King whom House Ethelorne had sworn fealty to, had lifted Aurelius, the Ambassador to the Reiksbund to a position of much greater prominence had certainly helped as had the "confidence shots" he had taken with his Walter. There had been the many subtle signs the lesser races would have missed that told him he was a valued member of the clan and House, it was such a good feeling. It was also in the past and in the here and now he was very much alone on it as there was no way large amounts of warriors could move quickly up or down. He was looking at a massacre waiting to happen.

The sun-filled plain below him rose slightly from the far end to the other one. It was hemmed in by the sea on one side and a rather impregnable forest on the other. The work of countless sheep had made sure there was only grass and very low shrubs between the armies of Prince Imrik and that led by Prince Tyrion. There were easily a kilometer and a half between the combatants-to-be yet his scope and elven eyes made sure that he could perceive any detail. The wonderfully detailed armor that covered the Dragon Princes the would not protect the best cavalry the Asur had from what was to come. The Silver Helmets, being a little less capable than their formerly dragon-riding companions who would die as ably and readily than their even more arrogant cousins. There were rows upon rows of archers, some of the best missile troops this world knew who were just outranged by a little more than a kilometer by their opponents.

There were spear-carriers by the regiment, who if they were to charge the regiments on the other side might see one in a hundred reach the other side of the battlefield. The chariots of Tiranoc, nearly as fast as the fastest steed and filled with elves wielding spears and bows would certainly add a bit of spectacle to the coming murder as they tended to upend spectacularly when all horses died suddenly. He managed only to glimpse the mages the three rebel princes brought to the field. They would certainly be mighty and deep into their lore, but they would go against Teclis and Alarielle. Their chances might be worse than those of the mounted troops who would just charge machine guns. Detailed armor, weapons of great renown, sword wielders of legendary prowess, horses so fine they brought tears of envy to riders of lesser races and banners that would protect and inspire. The rebel army was the epitome of what true elf meant to be so few years ago.

The other side of the field held the same of course, his own clan and many others saw to that. They were many, they were equally skilled and equipped and they were a sideshow. The ones Aeolus was sure to be the killers were harder to spot as they had adopted grey-green uniforms, had taken the pains to dig themselves in and placed sandbags around their heavy weapons. Long silver coils glinted in the sun, barbed wire was not a restricted commodity and the new style regiments raised by the Phoenix King had invested heavily in it. Whatever hopes the rebels might have had to overrun the rifleelfs would be foiled by that.

Aeolus could see the killing already. The Dragon Princes would lead; the Silver Helmets would follow. If the slowed down enough for the infantry to keep up they would just give Prince Tyrion`s forces the time to shoot more of them. They would be stopped by the barbed wire they could not clear and whoever retreated would be flanked by the cavalry. The few "Eagle Claw" bolt throwers that were in the enemy`s lines were not in range and Aeolus had a hard time imagining that the new model troops would patiently wait until their crews had trundled them all over the battlefield. There were Great Eagles on both sides but only one had machine guns on anti-aircraft mounts. There was only one way that this could not end in a one-sided bloodbath and that was by negotiation.

There was a small group of Asur in the middle of the battlefield. They were an impressive sight, all slender and beautiful, all well-muscled and versed in the way of war, all clad in the finest armor and armed with legendary weapons. Alarielle, Prince Tyrion, Imrik, the Princes of Cothique and Tiranoc were seen going through the motions. That Imrik and the others had brought their armies to Lothern, that they had declared the Phoenix King unfit to rule meant that there had to be a battle. Given the leaders in question it was very unlikely that a duel would be called for, it would have fallen to Imrik and him fighting Tyrion could only end one way. He would send his people to their deaths instead.

The formalities before him allowed Aeolus to muse about the very different style of government he had now seen. At least on the surface the Germans were all about belonging to their country, the rule of law and about belief in their way of life. Their leaders would never enter the battlefield, never risk their lives the way the true Elves would always expect from theirs. The Asur knew that their way of life was the only one or did they these days. Yet the biggest difference was that while there were a million laws and customs they followed their leaders. They were usually around for a couple of centuries and simply knew better. In Germany if a General would ask his troops to march on Berlin he would be placed in gaol by his own soldiers because the law said so. With the Asur it was more important that the Prince wanted it that way as everybody trusted him to know best about all the rules and conventions. As most things did not change much in Ulthuan through the centuries that was usually right, but now these same Princes would lead so many good Asur to the deaths and each of them would be a tragedy.

The seemingly endless negotiations took Aeolus` mind to topics even more removed from the battlefield he was on. The stupid joke cracked by Ottokar Proktor made an entrance when the Princes finally parted their ways.
"War is when young men who do not know each other fight and die at the orders of old men who know each other very well."

And then he knew what needed to be done. He turned the knob on his scope so that the ring had the same size as Prince Imrik`s upper body. The aim point shifted to account for range and the movement of Imrik`s helmet plume gave the wind`s direction and velocity. The Prince was still protected the flag of parley, one that protected him by custom, law and magic. And so the small group was allowed to continue to their lines where all stopped again. The Flag came down and Imrik turned to his troops, now protected only by their distance from their enemy and customs as old as the Elven Civil War.

He had just opened his mouth to explain to his true Elves why they should ride to their glorious deaths when the shot broke as cleanly as any that Aeolus had ever taken. Its arc through the air was what the Elf had expected to an inch and it terminated at the shield that an ancient artifact erected around Imrik. It stopped the outer layer of the bullet cold, leaving a small melted dot of cooper and lead on the ground. The steel core was of a different stuff, one of the more interesting creations made by the Gold Order. Instead of adding magic to the metal they had extracted it to the point where it hardly registered in the warp. It had certainly helped that the iron was from Germany and therefore far less exposed to the warp during its existence than comparable material from the Empire. The steel core was simply not registered by the magic used by the Price`s protection and so it continued onwards. The stripping of the outer layer had slowed the bullet a bit and had caused the core to spin, so when it collided with the breastplate of the target it barely made it through. There was still enough energy to damage the pericardium around the prince`s heart and to pump blood into the sac. It compressed the heart so much that it stopped functioning within two minutes. A German-trained and -equipped medic could have saved the Prince but these were on the other side of the battlefield.

Before the Prince even had the time to drop from the saddle four more shots had gone out, killing the Princes of Tiranoc and Cothique where they stood. Silence took the battlefield for long seconds. Of course the Princes had been fair game once the flag of parley was lowered, but who would be so crass to actually kill them before combat was joined for real. Which commoner would dare to kill one of the high nobles without a challenge and who would be so tasteless to take the heroic combat from the great prices? That Prince Tyrion and his entourage searched for the sniper as urgently as the army that had been laid by the slain rebel prices added to the confusion and it kept the battle from starting any time soon. In the end it were the Dragon Princes who charged as they felt their honor demanded it. They charged alone and without support, they charged a gunline designed to break their likes. Prince Tyrion`s regiments were no Druchii, they stopped shooting when the charge faltered after a few hundred meters. About half of the Princes would make it back to their own lines.

It took the three rebel provinces weeks to reestablish their governments and by that time information about conceiving children had made its rounds. None of the provinces would continue the war which did not keep several Houses from deciding otherwise.

Aeolus had made his way back to his unit and to Ethelorne Keep. The only one who would speak to him was his father who declared him totally corrupted by the German ways and no longer a son of him. Aeolus had not expected anything else, still something inside him died when he made his way to the river boat that would bring him to Lothern. The weather matched his mood while he rode along, there was a deep, cold and unseasonal fog on the second day. He barely saw the way and it was a very good thing that his horse was able to follow the way while his mind saw all the things that he would never see again with his eyes. He finally took notice when his horse stopped by his own account and when his mind finally arrived in the here and now he was confronted by three riders. Their features, their armor and affiliation was hidden by heavy cloaks. Their swords were easily visible though. He reached for his sidearm when one of them loosened a heavy sack and dropped it before his feet.

"Your services are no longer needed."
He was still searching for an answer when the three turned and vanished into the fog as if they had never been.

The sack contained golden coins. Much much later Aeolus calculated that each of them had been the payment for a hundred souls of the roughly 25000 that did not die on that day. The coins had an interesting thing in common, none showed the picture of Finubar, the Phoenix King. It would certainly not do for the King to express his gratitude for an act against all the good customs wouldn`t it?