Other side of the Battlefield

Pierre was one of those who had gained one of the coveted sets of Gambeson armor and even an old motorcycle helmet. Of course such a bounty came at a price and that was a place in the first line of his Tercio. This day had started like most days, he had gotten up when some idiot blared notes through an instrument he regularly abused. The sun had not been up for while and his Tercio had stood to at dawn waiting for an attack that never came. They had a bowl of mush before marching towards the field. They had not disassembled their camp today, rumor had it that it would be the refuge if this went wrong. He had marched till his sergeant had placed them and ever since then he waited.

He had been a soldier long enough that he was good at waiting, even when today was far worse than usual. He waited while other units arrived at his Tercio`s left. Pierre was not sure whether he should be reassured when the medics showed up, unfolding their stretchers and distributing their gear. He had waited while the crossbowmen took their place between the two pike units and he had still waited when the bloody knights decided to show up.

That had been the part when waiting became real hard. He saw the knights emerge from two roads and then turn into the field forming their units. Their numbers seemed to know no end and he spent one of the worst hours of his life seeing enemy after enemy appear. He feared what would come next, he simply wanted to get it over with.

Andy Thrope could see the enemy far better than Pierre, a small stand had been erected for him and a small part of his staff. He had a high-powered binox and even better his pad displayed the video sent from the the balloons above him. By now he had a good idea about the enemy`s numbers and was reasonably sure he would not be too surprised. He had more men than the Royals, not so many but half again his numbers easily. Given that the Royals had brought at good portion of Bretonia`s knights with them that did not mean so very much.

Currently the video was shaking and changing perspective rapidly as several teams of oxen were doing their best to haul the balloons back down via idler pulleys. A couple of dozen spots on the horizon rapidly grew into ugly beasts with riders on top of them. While the teams managed a few meters every second Andy doubted that the balloons would come down in time. Good.

Even the closest were still 50 meters or so above the ground when the Hippogryps slowed down and turned so their claws could rip the envelopes or shred the hapless observers. Being so close to the ground showed their huge beaks, their claws and their well-armored riders. It also made them prime targets for the rifle company that Andy had stationed there for this exact purpose. The company used the Mk1b rifles produced for the Auxilia years ago. And while they were single shot breach-loaders they were accurate to ten times the distance the flying chimeras were and easily powerful enough to penetrate feathers and flesh. The Hippogryph`s cries of joy and triumph changed to pain and fear in seconds. In the end they managed to slice two balloons into uselessness killing an observer an observer in the process. Half a dozen made it back to their lines when too many riflemen shot the closest targets and neglected the others.

The rest of the Hippogryphs were killed in a mad minute of shooting followed by a few more dispatching the wounded ones. Most of their riders perished when their steeds dropped to the ground, very few of the others managed to surrender. Andy Thrope had his video back up when the enemy started the first charge and could release the precious rifle company from reserve.

Nearly a kilometer from Thrope Pierre`s legs wanted to run, his bladder cried for relief and his stomach was filled with lead. At the other side of the field a huge block of knights had started to ride forward. They were still moving slowly and a huge wall of armored horses and knights were moving towards the very place that Pierre had to hold. They became bigger while they closed and their leaders seemed not to care.

The enemy started to canter when they were finally told to take up their pikes. The pike that always was so heavy and awkwardly long suddenly seemed far too short and weak in the face of the doom that would run him down any minute. To his side the crossbow teams also started to move. They were organized in two-man teams. One carried and shot the crossbow, the other lugged a huge and heavy shield around he now placed before them. He would assist in loading and take up the weapon if needed.

And then the moment came when the Knights accelerated into the gallop, showing their hand where they intended to strike. The moment when Pierre was allowed to bring the pike down he had held straight up so far and the moment when he realized he would not run. He did not turn his head but head when the first crossbow salvo was released. He saw a small stream of bolts reach for the knights. A few horses dropped, even fewer knights fell from their saddles, protected by well-made armor. A second salvo followed ten seconds later and another one after that. Each dropped more Knights and the first gaps appeared in the enemy`s ranks. It was not enough and still the crossbow teams retreated behind the pikemen who had to thin their line to make up for the gaps.

Pierre`s vision narrowed down to a tunnel. He saw just one or two knights charging him, and with each second he saw more details. He felt the ground under him shake with the hooves` beat. Saw the many segments of plate armor, saw the long lance that reached for him and that would pierce his Gambeson as if it were not there if it connected. All what stood between him and death was that his pike was two meters longer than the Knight`s lance and that his left and right was protected by his comrades. The comrades he had trained with, who shared his food and tent. The comrades who did not waver and when he realized that Pierre found he was not afraid.

Death was a few dozen meters away and he was not afraid. Pushing his pike a bit deeper into the ground behind him he leveled his weapon at the height of a horse`s head. The Knights urged their horses with cries and spurs, they needed to keep their steeds going if they wanted to overcome the wall of deadly points they faced. One second they were coming forward at full fury, sure to kill, the next the ground below them dropped away. Pierre had not spend all of his day on this hill waiting, like the others he had dug holes and short trenches. They were covered with twigs and some dirt, the Knights had missed them in the rush of the charge.

Horses dropped in them, ramming their chests against the walls so hard they broke. Legs gave way while their riders were catapulted from the saddle. Other riders collided with them or dropped when their steeds went on their rear legs in their haste to stop. Within the space of a few seconds the fury of the charge was converted into the pain and confusion of a major accident.

Pierre waited for the command to charge the mess, but that did not come when he expected it.. Instead the Crossbow teams took their places again and plastered the Knights before them. At such a short range their bolts had a decent chance to penetrate the plate and would go through the mail that protected the horses every time. A group of Knights coalesced into something that could threaten the marksman. That was when Pierre`s Tercio got the command, that was when they stepped forward like the thousands of times they had practiced it. The only difference came up when Pierre`s pike had a harder time penetrating the armor of the enemy who still had not disengaged himself from his horse. Pierre stabbed at anything that moved till the command came to get back in line. In the end the more organized Knights managed to carry retreat to the insults and catcalls of the former serfs.

Pierre felt great, really great and invincible at that moment. He had faced down the Knights and those stupid buggers had fallen for the trap just as General Thrope had promised them. His elation lasted as long as he saw what was coming their way. There were more Knights of the kind that had such a spectacle of them. But this time they were advancing more slowly so that the archers could advance with them.

The Tercio was about to experience a soldiers worst nightmare, being shot at without any chance to fight back. He had to watch the bloody archers get into range, see them ready their bows and offload. The best he and the others could do was to crouch down and present the smallest possible target. He heard the evil whizz of the arrows, heard the impacts in soil, armor and flesh and he heard the screams and low moans of those hit. Something thunked into his helmet and an arrow appeared in the soil having ricocheted from the though plastic.

He lifted his eyes so he could see the bad news and saw that at least they were not the only ones suffering. The crossbow teams were at it and while they shot considerably slower than they tended to hit more. He saw some knight berate the archers for shooting the crossbow teams and hunkered down for more hate when things changed.

There was a squeaking behind him, orders and cursing followed by muffled impacts. Something flew above his head and dropped amongst the group of archers. The half-seen projectile broke up upon impact and distributed flaming fuel. It was quickly joined by more of the same and new salvos were coming in before the first fires had gone out.

Pierre could not see it now, but he had watched the drill before. The simple catapults were entirely driven by strong serf backs. Not everybody was fit to fight in the front line. There were those who could not march to orders, those who bolted when the Green Knight charged them and those who arrived late. Now a dozen of them pulled on short ropes and forced the short arm of their catapults downwards. The long arm rose as quickly as they would pull and the force of a dozen men was transferred to a two-kilogram jug of clay filled with gasoline, diesel and cheap liquid soap.

They usually managed one "shot" every 10 seconds or so and they dropped liquid death on the archers as fast as they could.

The archers ran as fast as they could after less than a minute. Most of them were ran down by the next wave of knights who charged the line again. Pierre`s Tercio was forced back a couple of meters till the charge lost momentum, then they pushed back till the Knights formed a dense group before them. The catapult teams had a great time demonstrating why the archers had run.

Up on his stand Andy Thrope watched the engagement on the left and managed to smile. So far so good. He stopped smiling when he saw the Knights in the center advance to the middle of the field and dismount

5: Northern Troll Country

He was cursed. There was no other option. It already had been nine days since the crash. And while Kain noticed that he lost much of the muscles he had been so proud of, his body felt stronger than ever before. He had only drunken molten snow, with nothing to eat, but somehow, he still had enough strength to continue his journey home. He could only advance slowly, still being glad he had found enough material to build himself snow shoes. Sigmar be thanked that the weather was more or less kind to him. Even one of the weaker snow storms that were so common would surely kill him.

It had to have to do with this damned flower. He could feel how the roots still continued to spread throughout his body. Within the flower ran his own blood, he had seen this when he had ripped off one of the blossoms. While his body consumed itself, the flower gave it enough energy to continue on, at a point he should already had collapsed long ago. Shouldn't the flower consume some of his strength itself? It was a parasite, or wasn't it? From where came the energy the flower gave him?

A strange thought crossed his mind. Could it be that the flower used the chaos energy as nourishment? Kain was no scientist and had only listened so eager during the lessons during basic training because he knew the punishments for negligence only too well. He already had forgotten many of the more specific things he had been taught. Even if his somewhat ripped and damaged clothes should offer limited protection from the ever-present threat in the Chaos Desert, after being exposed for so many days, he should at least show initial symptoms of warpstone contamination, but there was nothing. Whatever the flower did, it gave him energy and had most likely protected him from the Chaos energy.

Since he had left the cave, he had encountered not even a single lifeform. Even if Troll Country was only sparsely populated, scavengers and hunters should still roam everywhere on the search for prey. The Chaos Deserts should be hell, sure to kill everyone crazy enough to enter it without enough support. But even if he saw from close all the crazy and mind numbing deformities Chaos had enforced in these lands, it seemed like nothing was after his life. That made him even more afraid than his unworldly stamina.

He looked into the sky. The aurora hadn't disappeared for even a moment since his stay in the cavern. From training he knew that on Earth aurora were phenomena stretching over vast distances, but their equivalents in Troll Country were very local, at most only a few dozen kilometers in diameter, normally only lasting for a few hours. So it stood to reason that the aurora was following him. The aurora… and the fog that hid something very dangerous from his eyes.

Several times thick fog had suddenly obstructed his sight. Sometimes, he heard faint noises, sounds he would associate with something dying a surprising death. When he moved around within the fog, it would sometime get so dense that he thought it wanted to suffocate him. Then, his newly acquired instincts that already had saved his life in the cavern, would tell him to choose a different direction. And after a few meters into the 'right' direction, the fog would lighten up again.

Something was leading him to somewhere, while keeping him save. But why? With each passing day, a certain suspicion grew withim him. It surely had not been Sigmar that had saved him in the cavern. And if it had not been him, who had it been? Was this some kind of trap, something he couldn't grasp, something that would harm the Army of Light? When he thought it all through again, hadn't he been saved already before entering the cave? He had wondered why the wolves hadn't reached him earlier. And their pack had been missing some members back in the cavern that never reappeared. Something had wanted him to find the cavern, he now was sure. And if he continued this train of thought, had this something also been responsible for the initial attack on the plane?

While his thoughts spun on more and more, his instincts responded to something. Something dangerous was approaching him fast. And… yes, there came the fog again. But this time, he would resist. Kain shouted with all of his mysteriously received strength:

"Come out, show yourself! I don't know who or what you are, but I had enough! This cannot be the will of Sigmar. I swore to fight to the end. But if this is some kind of trap, I will rather kill myself on the spot instead of continuing this game!"

Kain drew the small survival knife he had received when he had joined the AoL. He pressed it to his throat, feeling a warm drop of blood from the small wound he already inflicted himself.

"Do not think that I am bluffing! I might not look like one, but I am a faithful believer of Sigmar! If my death will help stop this plan of Chaos, I will gladly give my life! Now show yourself or I will know that nothing of this has the blessing of Sigmar!"

The fog was dissipating. As it disappeared, the landscape came back, clearer than ever before during the last few days. And it revealed something that nearly froze the blood in Kain's veins. It was a large pack of the Chaos wolves she already was acquainted with. Nearly twenty of them. He couldn't tell if this was the same pack or some other, but it was clear that it was following him, now already running towards him, as he stood defenseless in the middle of a vast empty plain. Was this his answer? Would this be his end?

Kain had to grin. Well, he had to speak his challenge. There was no chance he could win against these enemies, but he would at least go down fighting. He changed the grip on his knife, readying it in front of himself for his last fight. Looking at the leading wolf, he awaited his end. An end that would not yet come to him.

Without prior sensing someone had been in his vicinity, suddenly a white scheme was running past him towards the wolves. The savage monsters, already nearly having reached Kain, immediately changed their course and converged in the scheme, surrounding it. Kain's mind had problems to process the rapidly changing situation. However or whatever this scheme was, it would surely be dead within a few seconds and that it would be again his turn.

But again, he was mistaken. The scheme carried a weapon with it, a large black halberd, and made great use of it. Already with the first swing three wolves were bisected. The entire pack had attacked at the same time, accepting some losses in an attempt to overwhelm their opponent. But while three corpses remained, the scheme simply disappeared from within the inescapable circle of maws, dissipating in a dense fog. Only a moment later, the scheme reappeared behind the group of wolves again, and with another swift swing of the halberd the death toll increased by two more.

The pack immediately went into a frenzy, continuing to try to overwhelm its opponent by its numbers and attacks in quick succession. However, they never as much as scratched their target. And the halberd mercilessly continued its work. Kain could only stand there and observe the battle. It was a one-sided massacre. No, it was a beautiful dance. Kain finally could discern the white scheme. It was a woman. Normally, he would say it was human, but seeing this performance, what human would be able to doing something like this?

For the most part, the woman would stand on one spot, awaiting the attacks. Then circumventing the individual attacks by the smallest necessary margin, counterattacking with the halberd in the process. To even be able to do something like this, what kind of skills, training and experiences one would need? When there was no way to easily escape, she would disappear in the fog, only to reappeared close by and attack from another angle.
And then it was finally over. The woman stood in the middle of the bloody remains of more than a dozen Chaos wolves. She had retracted the halberd from the split skull of the last wolf. Now her attention shifted to Kain who used the end of the fight to further look at her. Her once white clothes were stained by blood. As if she noticed his thoughts, she made a gesture with one hand and all the red on her body and clothes simply dropped off as one would remove a speck of dust from ones clothes. While keeping eye contact, she slowly approached Kain and stopped a few meters away from him. Her clothes were really of pure white. And normally totally inappropriate for the cold climate of Troll Country. Arms and legs were mostly uncovered, she also was barefooted. All she wore was a one-piece dress and some kind of necklace. She had a rather small figure, appearing even frail, if not for the three meter tall halberd she was able to yield with ease. Her face was beautiful, facial features as if created by master craftsmen.

As Kain looked her deep into the unwavering eyes, her deep-green slightly glowing eyes, he knew with certainty that she was no mere human. They continued to look at each other in silence. The wind let her open white hair, long enough to nearly reach her ankles, slightly wave around. Kain couldn't speak a single word, and the woman seemed to have no interest to start a conversation.

Just when the woman began to turn around, Kain realized that she had waited for him. Hadn't he demanded that she shows herself?

"Wait… who are you? Why are you doing all of this? Why saving me, or, why causing the accident? That was you, right?"

The woman stopped in her movement, and turned back to look at Kain. When she started speaking, Kain thought to hear an angel´s choir in the background, while at the same moment his head seemed to split from sheer pressure her gentle and soothing voice was causing.

"It had been necessary. You have to bring it to them."

During the last sentence, her eyes had wandered to one of the blossoms on his body.

"It will help you, protect you. But it has a price."

Her eyes wandered into the distance.

"They are finally coming to get you, stay here and you will be saved."

Again, she was about to leave. Kain stretched out his arm, wanting to stop her. He had the feeling that this was a very important moment, that he could change so much with only the right words.

"Just one last question: Who are you? Tell me your name. Please, I have to know your name."

Fog slowly gathered around her, allowing Kain to see how her body disappeared, itself turning into fog. She wouldn't answer him, but her look made clear that she knew why she had to remain silent. At that moment, while her face still remained emotionless, her eyes emitted so much pain, so much grief. Whatever the reason was, it demanded great sacrifices from her. Just as she completely disappeared, Kain thought had he could see her lips move only so slightly.

It was fifteen minutes after the white woman had disappeared when Kain heard the sounds of a helicopter. They really were coming. He would live. Something had attracted them to this place. Maybe the aurora. It had followed him for days, but now it had disappeared together with the white woman.

Kain would not react to the rescue team landing near his position. He ignored his saviors as they cautiously approach him, asking him about name and id number. He only repeated the same sentence over and over again:

"Aurora, I will call you Aurora."

As the helicopter left for its base, the white woman appeared again from the fog, looking after it. Right now, her face was no longer emotionless. It displayed great longing. She wished so much to accompany him, to approach the Army of Light and tell them everything she knew. This burden was too much for her. For a moment she had been weak. At the last moment she couldn't resist the impulse to at least mutter her name. Had he understood it? Would it change anything, everything? Did all of this even matter in the end? Only time would show…