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Nachhexen-20-31-2494
"You look tense," said Katarin, crossing her arms as she watched me. I was shaking my leg nervously, my eyes fixed on the maps scattered across the table.
"Because I am. I thought we could use the Dawi tunnels to reach Karak Eight Peaks, but they've collapsed… and the thagoraki control them. That leaves us only one option: crossing the Badlands. Which means I'll have to leave part of my forces behind, guarding the supply posts so the logistics line doesn't break."
She stepped closer, her gloved hand resting on my shoulder."What about the air? We could try to enter riding griffons, or using those Dawi flying machines—the gyrocopters."
I shook my head. "We'd get trapped inside. Flying at such altitude, in freezing winds and unpredictable drafts, would be madness. And even if we did make it in, the doom divers could bring down even Dawi aircraft."
"Doom divers?" Katarin raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
"Goblins. They launch themselves from catapults as living projectiles. They wear harnesses that let them glide for a few seconds… then crash into whatever they find. Suicidal, but accurate. We know there are several launch platforms inside and around the fortress."
I unfolded an old map across the table. Many sections were incomplete or crossed out; no one had had a clear view of Karak Eight Peaks' interior for centuries.
"My sisters and I could try to calm the winds… perhaps even control the snowfall," Katarin said, with a half-smile that I couldn't tell was optimism or defiance.
"Yes, but the Dawi won't let us use their machines if we bring mages aboard. They still haven't forgotten what the elves did to them—and since we wield a similar kind of magic, that hatred touches us as well. We'll have to go in fighting. This bridge is key. And this fortress here in the mountains—Karak Drazh. The greenskins hold it. They control the pass. That's our first objective."
I pointed to the mark on the map. "An orc warlord lives there. He's harassed the Dawi for decades. King Kazador of Karak Azul has placed a bounty on his head—and on the liberation of his kin, captured by that brute. He's even attacked Barak Varr. This isn't some common warlord. And since we'll have to advance on the surface… we're already losing men just covering our rear."
"We're prepared. You have cannons, supplies, and thousands of soldiers who follow you," Katarin said, wrapping her arms around my neck. Her voice, warmer than usual, broke through her typical coldness. "We'll find a way to win here. We will."
"Thank you," I said, letting out a sigh while taking her hand, my eyes never leaving the topographic maps. "We can use the rivers as natural borders… if they're wide enough, maybe even navigable. I could secure riverboats from Barak Varr—or at least the orcs would avoid getting too close. The river is a good frontier, though not a perfect one."
I closed my eyes, fingers interlaced with hers, breathing more steadily.The campaign was already starting with complications, but it wasn't a disaster yet. The rivers were wide and deep, their beds filled with jagged rocks. They weren't navigable—but they were nearly impossible for greenskins to cross. My vanguard riders found no usable crossings: no bridges, of course, but not even a ford.
Only one option remained, build one.
The sooner we did, the sooner I could face the reality of the situation I had walked into.
For the first time in years, I was commanding a campaign in a land with no roads, no bridges, no basic infrastructure. Everything an army needed to move simply didn't exist. This war would be fought in untamed wilderness, far from any zone of influence or supply.
So I had to improvise—or rather, to build.Thousands of my men took up pickaxes and shovels, carving paths through the scattered rocks and uneven ground. At the same time, the Dawi marching under my banner worked on the bridge's components—beams, reinforcements, anchors—all under the direction of our engineers.
"My lord, greenskin patrols have been sighted," reported one of the scouts, hurrying up to me.
"Where?" I asked without looking up from the map, trying to decide the best point to place the bridge.
"North of the river. Likely local bands. For now, we haven't seen any larger groups trying to cross," said the scout.
"Captain, take your men. Ride to the area and clear out any threat. This site must stay secure. We can't risk our supply line."
"Yes, my lord," the captain replied, already gathering his unit.
"They don't seem many, my lord. Not enough to justify moving so many troops," the scout added cautiously.
"Where there's a small band of greenskins, there are always more hiding nearby. Besides, we'll need a garrison here. Someone must protect this strategic point." I turned toward one of my Dawi engineers and pointed at the map.
"Look, we have two options. If we build the bridge to the south, it'll be faster. The river's calmer there, so we could start right away and focus on construction. But the supply line would run right through the urk routes. We'd have to leave a lot of troops behind to guard it," said Grimm, studying carefully the maps we had received from the High King.
"If we build here, the river is narrower, but the current is stronger. We'll need to make sure the structure is sturdy and reinforced. Still, it would give us the river as a natural defense. Later on… we'll have to decide where to set the second bridge."
"It's very close to the mountains… do you know if the terrain is steep or if there are hills?" I asked with interest, watching as the Dawi began sketching on the maps spread across the table.
"Nothing certain. All I know dates back to when our ancestors ruled this region. Not much else. The terrain could have changed completely," he replied, shaking his head.
"Damn…" I muttered. "Better to deal with steep ground than fight greenskins every day. Less gunpowder wasted. We build to the east."I tapped the map with my finger, marking the decision.
"All right. What kind of fortification will we need to protect the bridge?" asked Grimm, pulling out parchment and a metal pen to begin sketching.
"Nothing complicated. Something simple, wooden. A palisade—just enough for basic protection. We can't afford to build a proper fortress. Time is gold here, and we can't waste months raising walls… especially since we don't have the High King's permission. These are still Dawi ancestral lands. If we build something too permanent, they might think we mean to claim the place for ourselves," I said after a moment's thought.
"Any clan that could've claimed these lands no longer exists. I doubt it'll offend anyone… but in any case, we must move forward. We have a direct order from the High King—this shipment must reach Clan Angrund," replied Grimm, handing me a quick sketch of the camp layout.
I nodded at the drawing and gave the order to begin.
For three days of exhausting labor, thousands of my men worked without rest—shoveling gravel, laying cobblestone roads, raising wooden structures, and above all, building the bridge needed to cross the river. Even the Dawi labored alongside them, handling the most technical tasks.
But in the meantime, my worst fears began to unfold.Across the river, worrying movements could be seen: large numbers of greenskins were gathering, as if preparing for something.
The only thing in our favor… was how stupidly impulsive they could be. Some of my soldiers fired from our side of the river, and the orcs—without thinking—threw themselves straight into the water. Yes, into the river. All muscle and no sense; the moment they hit the water, they sank and were dragged downstream, smashing against the sharp rocks until they were torn apart.
For now, everything was going well—skirmishes won, though at the cost of much powder. Many greenskins died in the river, either on the rocks or from my men's muskets. For the time being, the river served as a solid defense.
When we finally had a sturdy bridge—small, but firm—we wasted no time. We crossed the river and began advancing toward the Dawi Karak we were meant to reinforce.
Fortunately, the terrain wasn't as rugged as I had feared. Most of it consisted of gentle hills, which made the army's advance easier, at least somewhat. Moving the supply wagons was still difficult in places, but not impossible.
The real problem was the greenskins in the nearby hills and mountains. They were an obstacle we couldn't avoid. Still, it was preferable to heading further south, where the orc presence was far heavier. Had we taken that route, my powder reserves would probably already be cut in half from constant skirmishes.
As we moved through the hilly terrain, the attacks were relentless. Bands of greenskins descended from the mountains or tried to cross the river to reach us. But here the situation was different: the river had two natural crossings, and the greenskins knew them well. They struck from those points, forcing me to leave thousands of men behind to guard the rear. At the same time, I had to assign engineers to fortify those crossings to prevent the orcs from turning the campaign into chaos.
The war hadn't even truly begun, and I had already left five thousand soldiers stationed in various positions, defending critical points against constant raids.
After a week of marching, we reached the next obstacle: another river, deeper this time, with no natural crossing for a quick passage. We had no choice but to build another bridge. Luckily, many parts had already been prefabricated, thanks to Grimm's foresight.
In just two days it was assembled. It wasn't a marvel of Dawi engineering, but given our time and resources, it was a solid, functional structure—a reinforced wooden bridge strong enough to allow the main army to cross.
I left another garrison—three thousand men—to guard the new supply route. Once again, my forces were reduced, but it was far better than being trapped. If I could break the siege, thousands of Dawi reinforcements could arrive, drastically reducing the cost of the war—especially in lives.
Once I finished inspecting the area, I met with Grimm again to decide our next move.
"Crossing the bridge, we'll need to keep heading south… the problem is that the further we go, the narrower the river becomes," said Grimm, pointing at the maps with the tip of his pen.
"That complicates things with the greenskins. How are we on powder?" asked Katarin
"We've used barely a tenth of our reserves, so for now we're fine. Besides, the first shipments from the laboratory should arrive soon. We don't need to be overly cautious with expenditure… unless something happens to the supply line. But for the moment, we're all right," I replied calmly.
Grimm added, tracing another route on the map: "We could also head east, follow the river's course, then turn south. Of course, that would mean frequent contact with urk descending from the mountains. They're fewer than those in the Badlands, but far more troublesome."
I took a few seconds to think. "In that case, we continue south. Mountain greenskins are the worst—they strike from any flank, at any time. I can't keep leaving thousands of men behind just to guard our supplies."
My fingers traced the marked line of advance. It was clear there was no easy path—only less disastrous ones.
As we continued the march, we soon discovered a large greenskin clan settled on the opposite side of the river. They were numerous, though poorly armed—little more than sticks and hides—and for now, they hadn't noticed us. Best to ignore them. Not provoke them. At least until we were better positioned.
I left another two thousand men garrisoned in the area, along with several cannons and organ guns. If any battle broke out, they could hold long enough to prevent the orcs from cutting off our rear.
Finally, we reached the true beginning of the campaign: the Death Pass.There, before us, stood the great Dawi-built bridge that spanned the ravine. Once, it had been the road to Karak Eight Peaks—a masterpiece of dawi engineering, now guarded by its enemies. I could clearly see the outer walls of the ancestral fortress of Karak Drazh.
The gates were covered in rough iron and planks, decorated with a crude emblem—the mark of the orcs.
With my magic, I could feel them. Thousands of orcs inside… and something else. Skaven.
''Well. It seemed I had arrived at just the right time''
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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