Maréchal Jean Le Maingre, commander of the Northern Expeditionary Forces of the Liberation du Quemara, was tasked with rooting out and destroying the nests that harboured the roving bands of ghouls that had, over the course of recent months, been terrorising the frontier settlers of the northern marches in Nuevo Quermara.
***
Prince Drágos Drázkhary, Voivode of the Marrowcraw Court, had turned his crusade south from the Tatterspine Hills. In his efforts to locate the Skaven incursions that had thus far eluded him during the quests in the north, Prince Drágos had dispatched rangers to scour the countryside. But far from finding the Skaven trespassers, the patrols encountered hitherto unknown border settlements of the upstart kingdom that called itself the “Liberation du Quemara”.
***
Leading the winding column of Liberation soldiers north-east across the Carmin plain, Le Maingre’s progress was blocked south of the River Sallowash as the packs of ghouls, until now having merely skirmished with the outriders of his army, began to coalesce into a massed host of the malign creatures. Le Maingre drew his columns in battle order, intent on a concerted attack to dislodge the ghouls from their foothold in the woodlands and so drive them back across the river and thus establish a defensible frontier.
***
Astride Hotspur, his loyal and trusted steed of many campaigns, Prince Drágos took to the air to survey the army arrayed against him. Alongside him flew his cousin, Yvan the Gaunt, Duke of the Splintervale, mounted upon the gloried fire-drake Warspite, called the Gilded Flame. On seeing the host assembled before them, the pair separated in wide, diverging arcs, seeking to press the attack against the cavalry squadrons that were screening either flank of the opposing army, and so isolate and encircle the main host of infantry in the centre.
***
Capitaine du Chevaliers, Charles d’Albret, on seeing the airborne monstrosities bearing down on his cavalry troops, knew that he must surely act quickly. Ordering the cavalry to advance, d’Albret – having determined the enemy centre to be but lightly defended - took it upon himself to charge headlong into the fray, driving his mighty war-griffin mount forward in all haste.
***
None could gainsay the dragon’s wrath. As Warpsite fell upon the enemy cavalry, man and mount were all swept aside by her rending talons and gouts of coruscating golden flame. Duke Yvan spurred her on into the massed enemy infantry beyond, even as regiments of militiamen in the livery of the Harrowcrag surged down the hill slopes to join the battle in ambush upon the enemy rear-guard. Across the field the valiant Hotspur had carried Prince Drágos straight into the fight against the heavy cavalry on the right flank.
***
“FIRE!! BRING IT DOWN!!” Shafts and quarrels darkened the sky as the Liberation’s contingents of archers and crossbowmen let fly once more at the cadaverous leviathan. With a final shudder the skeletal dragon crashed to the earth amidst the carnage it had wrought, and a cheer went up from the Liberation soldiers still holding the centre ground. But their relief was short lived. A second colossal, ragged shadow passed low overhead, letting forth a harrowing, ululating wail from beyond the grave. The last vestiges of hope left the hearts of all those still fighting – another beast was upon them!
***
Hotspur whinnied and chirruped excitedly as Prince Drágos brought him down low upon the ragged remnants of the enemy infantry. The noble steed had never shied from the fight. Today, as ever, had Hotspur shown his mettle in battle. Giving his mount free reign to enjoy his sport, Prince Drágos swelled with pride to see the marshalled discipline of the soldiers of the Harrowcrag as they marched upon the enemy rear to close the jaws of the trap. “Victory!” went up the cry as the foe was put to flight, “Drázkhary! Victory!”
***
“RETREAT! FALL BACK!” Maréchal Le Maingre gave the order, but feared he may already have been too late. Far in the distance he glimpsed d’Albret and his war-griffin still raking across the clusters of ghouls hunkering down in the scrub along the river bank. But the battle was lost. The hideous, blood-spattered monster rampaged unchecked along the lines, intent on devouring all in its path, whilst swarming ghouls moved to cut off the beleaguered Liberation soldiers.
Few would escape the slaughter of that day, at the place that would come to be known as the Charnel Fords.
No comments:
Post a Comment