Chapter 1

"Form up! Quickly now, redress the ranks."

Rushing to obey Stefan blinked rapidly trying to clear his eyes of the sweat which had suddenly run down his scalp from under his helm. Lifting a hand to wipe his face Stefan failed to notice the front rank halting in front of him only narrowly avoiding walking into the back of the trooper ahead. Swaying backwards he grabbed at his spear which was threatening to slip out of his one handed grasp.

"Sigmar dammit youngling if you don't stop arsing around and get a grip the orcs won't have to kill you, I'll gut you myself! Do you hear me?!"

"Yes Sergeant! Sorry Sergeant." Stefan meekly ground out his cheeks flushing red.

"Be a hard fight this as is, be an even harder fight without that spear", a chuckling voice joked beside him, "be best to keep a hold of it."

Pushing his helm back up on his head Stefan looked to his right, a look of exasperation mixed with nerves etched across his young face.

"Now is not the time Kurt!"

"No better time for a bit of humor lad, mark my words. You'll realise that after today one way or another", Kurt replied his voice becoming sombre.

Feeling his throat go tight Stefan was saved from trying to reply by the sound of the Sergeant shouting out orders.

"Front rank kneel and brace, Second rank present".

Moving to obey, Stefan watched as the soldier in front of him dropped to one knee and firmly planted the butt of his spear into the ground, the spear point sticking out ahead of him. Bracing himself he grasped his spear raising it out into the space vacated in front of him. Looking across the line Stefan watched as his unit all followed suit presenting a hedge of glinting steel spear tips forwards. Standing in the second rank he couldn't see too far up and down the line but over the rustle of cloth and armour the voices of sergeants and corporals shouting orders to their units painted a picture in Stefan's mind. An imperial army bracing for battle against one of its oldest foes. Moving his head had caused his helmet to slide forward again coming down low over his eyebrows. Bracing his spear under his arm Stefan reached to push it back tugging on his chin strap as he did so.

"Make it through today and you might just grow to fill out that armour."

"As always your sage advice is most welcome Kurt", Stefan snapped, nerves making his retort much harsher than he intended.

As if sensing the youngster's thoughts Kurt didn't respond and instead turned his eyes forward peering out ahead to try and catch a glimpse of their enemy. Following his example Stefan too strained himself forwards but all he could see was an empty field sloping away from the imperial line before gradually rising again to a low ridge that ended at a tree line in the distance. Long minutes dragged by and still there was no sign of their foe. All around Stefan men fidgeted, each dealing with their nervous energy in different ways. Hands tightened and released on spear shafts, armour was adjusted and tweaked and near silent prayers to Sigmar were offered for protection in the coming battle. All these little details and a hundred more played out around Stefan who saw them all as though he stood apart from them. In reality his own nerves were steadily growing, gnawing at him.

"Where are they Kurt?! Sigmar damn them where are they?", he gushed suddenly his voice betraying his nerves with it's rising pitch.

"Peace lad, peace. Orcs are never ones to turn down a fight never you worry. They'll be along now right enough and after you'll be wondering why you ever wished a hurry on them coming".

Hearing Kurt's calm tone Stefan drew in a deep breath and tried to still his thumping heart. Composing himself just a little Stefan stood a little straighter as an officer dressed in fine plate armour rode up in front of his unit. Stefan had only seen his Captain on two occasions since his enlistment six months ago. The first had been soon after he had taken his oath, the Captain had addressed the regiment at their training field back outside of Altdorf. Standing on a dais, while the new regiment had stood to attention, the Captain had spoken of their duty and honour as new soldiers of the Empire. Stefan remembered how his heart had swelled with pride listening to the man's words. The second time had been when the regiment was mustered to meet this greenskin threat. The Captain had been seated on his horse casting his eye over the regiment as they marched out, heading south towards the badlands. Since then the Captain had spent his time close to the Lord General receiving orders and giving them in turn.

Lifting up his visor the Captain leaned down from the saddle to have words with Stefan's sergeant. Apparently happy with what the sergeant told him the figure nodded, before straightening in the saddle and turning to observe the men. With the visor raised Stefan got a good look at the man seated on high before him. What he saw was a middle aged man with a face starting to show signs of age. A hawk like nose and proud bearing were the clearest indicators of his noble heritage.

"Soldiers of the Empire! Today is the day on which you prove your oaths. These greenskins have ventured deep into our homeland, taking advantage of our distractions to pillage and raid their way through these lands. Well today we put an end to this menace. Today we shall destroy these abominations and make their kind think twice before venturing into the lands of the Empire again!"

A chorus of cheers greeted the Captain's speech as men stood a little prouder ready to defend their homeland. Not everyone however was impressed by the Captain's rousing speech.

"Pah blue bloods. They're all alike, full of fancy words and high ideals. We won't see him on the front line when the blood and spit starts flying", a voice muttered darkly from the ranks behind Stefan. A small chorus of voices began muttering from the ranks although whether in agreement or dissent Stefan couldn't tell. As the Captain rode off down the line the muttering continued until a voice like thunder boomed out.

"I know who said that and consider yourself on a charge trooper Wurtz!" the sergeant roared, "do you hear me?! Corporal take that man's name, punishment to be decided after the battle".

Before the corporal could move to carry out the order the sound of horns blaring out their war cries were heard and as one all eyes turned to look at the treeline in the distance. Squinting hard Stefan could make out vague shapes moving in the shadows just past the trees. Slowly those vague shapes became clearer as a host emerged from the trees and Stefan found his breath catching in his throat for the orcs had finally arrived.

...

Pouring out from the trees the orcs seemed to have little in the way of military discipline. In no set shape or pattern their numbers swelled as more of them appeared in the open ground before the trees. As they milled around though Stefan could see a semblance of order to their horde. In front were smaller versions of the beasts who seemed to be almost herded forwards by their brethren behind. Stefan could only guess that these were most likely goblins, missile troops used to harass the enemy. Notoriously cowardly and sneaky, goblins weren't exactly keen on pitched battles unless they massively outnumbered the enemy, hence the reason the larger orc specimens behind were goading them onwards.

With this not so subtle encouragement bolstering their courage the goblins began to advance towards the Imperial lines. As they advanced the orc horde advanced as well, as if they weren't content to let the archers start the battle without them. From what Stefan had heard about an orc's love for battle this was very likely the case. As the horde moved closer Stefan began to be able to make out details about the enemy that had invaded their lands.

Roughly humanoid in shape the average orc stood at a height taller than a man. Broad, long arms showed off large bulging muscles which seemed to ripple beneath their green skin. Brutish by nature the orcs faces were a parody of beasts. Their thick furrowed brows bunched over beady red eyes which shone with a feral intelligence. The other stand out feature was a wide slavering mouth with the larger orcs possessing two prominent tusks jutting out from the lower jaw.

The goblins by comparison were definitely from the diminutive side of the greenskin family tree. Small and weak in stature goblins compensated for their lack of physical prowess by congregating in large numbers and overcoming enemies through strength in numbers. Sneaky and cowardly by nature the goblins were nevertheless cruelly cunning and many foes had underestimated them to their downfall.

On closer inspection Stefan noticed a distinct lack of metal armour amongst the orcs. The majority were clothed in simple versions of leather armour made from animal hides or in some cases appeared to forsake the need for any armour protection at all simply marching to war in leather loincloths. The larger orcs were armed with a mix of rusty blades, spears and clubs which appeared to made from bone or stone. The goblins on the other hand appeared to be mainly equipped with small crude bows although some also carried spears with simple round wooden shields. As they drew closer the sound of drums started up from within the horde the low rhythmic beat working the orcs up into a fighting frenzy.

Stefan felt himself tensing as the sound of the drums bored into him. Clenching his teeth together he gripped his spear harder. A breeze blew across the battlefield bringing with it the stench of the orcish horde. Stefan wrinkled his nose in disgust as he felt his stomach lurch and for an alarming second he felt as though he might be sick. Keeping his teeth clenched together he forced back down the bile rising in his throat determined not to suffer the shame of his comrades by appearing weak in the face of the orcs. Sucking in a deep breath he swallowed noisily to rid himself of the foul taste in his mouth. As if sensing his inner turmoil Kurt turned his head towards him,

"Remember lad just like in the drills back at the barracks. Thrust, turn, withdraw...Thrust, turn withdraw. They may look and smell like monsters but they bleed like you and I if you cut them right. Thrust, turn, withdraw..."

Repeating the words aloud the mantra helped calm Stefan's anxiety. In his mind's eye he pictured the straw dummies back on the training fields, his spear in his hands moving as he had been taught...thrust, turn, withdraw. Nodding, Stefan looked back towards the orc horde judging the shortening distance between the armies. Hearing orders being shouted down the line from them Stefan watched as a hail of black bolts sped out of the Imperial line towards the goblin front ranks. Within seconds goblins were punched off their feet as the deadly projectiles found their mark. Before they could even react the second line of Imperial crossbowmen had let loose a second volley with equally devastating effects. Stefan knew that the little beasts should be rushing forward quickly in order to get into range for their own small bows to repay the Imperials in kind. But goblins were not disciplined troops and they reacted poorly. Crying out in alarm they faltered and some began to cower and turn back. The crossbowmen didn't hesitate continuing to fire as soon as they had reloaded, their bolts felling more and more goblins as the milled about in a panic. Left to their own devices Stefan was sure that the goblins would have routed already. But alas it was not to be, snarling viciously the orcs behind laid about them with their clubs driving the goblins forward. Slowly the goblins were marshaled into a loose semblance of order and began moving forward again. It didn't take long for them to stop again but this time when they stopped they raised their bows to the sky and let loose.

"Now we're in for it", said a trooper to Stefan's left, his neck arching as he followed the flight of the arrows in the air. Without shields there was nothing that the men could do but wait and trust in their armour and the will of Sigmar for protection from the projectiles. Grimacing Stefan ducked his head and scrunched his shoulders as the arrows fell into the Imperial lines. Cries of pain sounded from the ranks behind as the goblin arrows found their mark. Realising he was unscathed Stefan looked up searching desperately for the next volley which he was sure must be coming.

"Eyes down, look to your front lad they'll be coming now", Kurt's stern voice snapped.

Not known for their patience in battle the main orc horde was indeed not waiting for their goblin allies to fire another volley. Pushing through the ranks with savage roars they began to charge towards the Imperial battle line. The orcish drums began to beat faster as if urging the horde on and the green tide swept forwards.

"Steady lads", the sergeant had stepped back into the second rank taking his place in the spear wall. "Here we hold them, keep your ranks".

The orcs now filled the horizon, the slope in front of the Imperial line barely seemed to be slowing them down. Stefan felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck, as his hands began to tremble slightly. Under the soles of his boots the ground vibrated as hundreds of snarling savage orcs closed the distance between the lines. Stefan's gaze was fixed on a large orc wielding a huge club rushing towards him. Stefan could see the spittle fly from the creatures mouth as it roared in defiance raising it club above it's head as it leaped towards them. The last thing Stefan heard was the sound of the Sergeant shouting,

"Brace!"